You know “writer’s block” – the inability to write for lack of ideas, inspiration, etc.
I think I have the opposite condition. I become paralyzed in my writing when I have TOO MUCH going on in my brain, and I feel overwhelmingly incapable of putting any words down on a page because as soon as I think of one idea, it’s quickly overshadowed by another that seems much more important, or yet another that causes all other topics to seem trite.
This is especially problematic when I want to be an informed member of society, and I, you know, read the news.
The literary altruist in me wants to say, “Write about anything! If it’s important to you, it’s worth putting down on paper!” That’s all well and good, but I just don’t know if I actually embrace this as a reality.
It just seems like any words I would offer about mediocre topics like the weather, or my bike-commuting adventures, or the lovable dog, Ralph, that we’re currently dog-sitting seem pathetically trite compared to current events in Nepal, Baltimore, Ukraine, Liberia, etc. etc. times a million. And even if I chose to write about any of those topics or situations I’ve deemed more worthwhile or important, I am acutely aware of my limited, privileged perspective and question if I have anything valuable to say anyway.
So. I decided to write today, after a bit of silence, about how I don’t have anything to write about.