Deconstructing Writer's Block

I’m trying hard to think about what I am to write about tonight but all that I came up with is a blank page. So instead of consciously thinking of a particular subject for tonight’s online diary, I guess that I just write about this writer’s block that I’m currently experiencing. At least it would be better than just a random collection of words.

Why do people draw a blank when they don’t have anything to write about? Is it because their life is dull and uninteresting that they do not have any experiences to draw from? If that is so, is it only those who have led remarkable lives who would make good writers? I don’t really know that many writers so I don’t really have much to compare with. I realize that I am actually less well read than I would like to think of myself. However, I think it would be logical to assume that not all writers live exciting and thrilling lives. There would sure be some great writers who actually live a quite unassuming life and yet managed to produce great works. With that assumption, where do their stories come from?

Maybe it comes from their imaginations. That place where they go to escape the dreary daily routine that had become mind numbing. But then how long with one’s imagination lasts when it is slowly chipped away by the monotony of life? Is imagination like a bottomless pool that ripples outward every time a pebble of idea falls into it? Or is it more like a limited oil reservoir that becomes worthless when it is all tapped out? I like to think of it as being an unending pool that occasionally will become still when no winds blows across the surface. It is calm but yet still holds a promise of waves and ripples when the right moment comes. Waves and ripples that would resolve into sparkling wit and brilliant insights.

There are no winds blowing tonight. This pool is calm for now.