Flatlined

 

I can’t explain it, but I am D.O.A.–Doug on arrival.

My head, filled with what seems like bubble wrap.

Pudding is livelier.

I have creatively flatlined.  Demonstrated by my recent absence from this blog.

Orphans get more attention.

If & when I ever get another idea it will be like lighting a match in a fart factory.

 

Some call it ‘writer’s block.’  I call it torture.

Staring at a blank page.

Blank.  Like the deposit column of my checkbook.

They say to  pick up the pen and start writing–so that’s what I am doing.

What dribble.  What ‘brain’ dribble comes out.

 

 

 

My ventriloquist dummy had more to say.

(Is it any wonder why I didn’t date?)

 

 

My mind is clicking along like Microsoft Explorer.

Functional as a Ford Pinto.

Satisfying as a glass of water at room-temperature.

 

Sitting here with my feet up.

Why?  It’s not like I have labored or anything.

Because I have zero energy.  Zilch.  I wake up tired even after a descent night’s sleep.

Making decisions are difficult.  Kegels exhaust me.

Tiredness probably explains why I have been a creative zero lately.  And for that I apologize.

 

C’mon you goof, just write something!  Spill it onto the paper!

OMG, any less brain activity I’d be a scarecrow!

I have the enthusiasm of oatmeal.

Flatlined, I am.  Let’s try the paddles…CLEAR!