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Writers' Block

Don't worry...

It is the curse of the writer to strive for impossible excellence, to dream the impossible dream, to attempt scaling impossible heights, and to keep at it no matter how many times your delusional standards drag you back to the sordid ground trodden by common folk. And if the cost of all this striving and failing, and climbing and falling, buys you a ticket to the deepest, darkest dungeon of the soul, what the hell. You march down those cobwebbed corridors straight into the murky depths and demand to be strapped to the rack - nice and tight, if you please - you call on the torturer to fetch his rustiest knives, his heaviest hammers, you implore him to heat his irons whiter than white, beg him to flay you until your every nerve ending screams for mercy, to wreak havoc on you, and never, ever stop... for the true artist, torment is the price you willingly pay for the elevation of the spirit, and a shot at immortality.

It sounds worse than it is...

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