No, it's not easy being creative...

Okay, so I have been brainstorming for new ideas on what to write about next, and by the way, if you don't want to hear about me talking about writing, or if you think I am just bragging, or if you think I am retarded, you are probably right on all accounts and if you don't like it you can go and visit someone else's site where they give a crap about what you think. This is my website, it is about me, and so I am going to do nothing but write about me.

So, my idea flow just up and stopped. I sat down a number of times today and just as the creative juices started to flow, I had several interruptions- the first interruption came in the form of hunger pain, so I stymied it quickly by eating a slice of Jimmy's extra cheesy pepperoni pizza. The next urge was to crawl right back into my extremely comfortable bed, but I drank a diet coke, tried to shake off the lethargy, and forced myself to stay focused on the subject at hand.

I then stared at my computer a while, put my fingers on the glossy black keys- and then started pressing them wildly hoping against hope that something brilliant would spring forth- but much to my chagrin- I had nothing but a lot of words that were lifeless and as flavorless a salt free saltines.

Fortunately, I have taken a course, or something that sort of resembles a course on creativity- maybe you remember me mentioning The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron- or perhaps you have had the opportunity to see the revised Christian version by way of ebumpkin.com- No? Well, I really didn't expect you to remember, if you did, then I would be really surprised and I would tell you that you needed to get out more and stop spending so much time on the internet.

That being said, I have had very little time to really allow myself to replenish my creative reserves, therefore, I have nothing to draw from, I am empty, poured out, like the perfume bottle broken by the woman of ill repute at the feet of Jesus, I am nothing but a puddle of fragrance, pungent to the nose of the passerby.

Now the clouds hang over my head, grimacing around me, puffed up with jowls full of spittle ready to shower me with angry words and torrents of wrath, and I cringe and pull back and I am beat about by the gusts and blows that they press upon me.

See, I told you- saltines...