Corpses are no longer decaying in many German cemeteries. Instead, the deceased become waxen, an uncanny process that has become so rampant it can no longer be ignored.
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There is an ultimate solution for writer's block, but before I describe it, there is also a Faustian problem to be negotiated.
I am not the Devil, offering a bargain.
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Our original inspiration for writing was not to be a writer, not to please an audience, but if (you) have writer's block, then it has become an obligation and a loss of self-enjoyment, a loss of the sense of mission that (you) have a torch to pass onto the next generation in this mortal world. Instead of having a surreptitious and secret investigation/travel into a mystery. Having an audience of people here, offering advice and watching, adds an extra implicit source of pressure to write.
With writer's block or even finished & corrupted product, we are sometimes becoming a hostage to the impulse to please others.
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Your journey is not our business.
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The ultimate solution for writer's block is the sense of mission and purpose that comes with recognizing two important matters:
(1) You are soon dead. You don't have time for writer's block. This recognition is also a cure for depression, which is related to writer's block.
Death,
time, and
damnation, realign your perspective on your limited time. All of the sands that are unfairly slipping away are ... all that (you) have. You pass along your torch. Or you don't. The thread is ripping, the knot is slipping.
(2) Except for one other thing that (you) have: (You) and only (you) possess a key that turns a lock in the world. Who else can make sense of the data? If you don't do it, nobody else will. In most cases, nobody else can. But you still can't be writing for the audience's sake. Only for the community of the dead.
On the other hand, if you never write another word, that's fine. You can vanish, never to be heard from again, walk away, and no-one ever knew why. But they never knew you anyway. And your journey is not our business.
R. I. P. Jeffrey Wells. We never knew him. It was none of our business anyway. Nobody knows anybody. In the immortal motto of Ice Cube: "Fuck all y'all."