Idiot's Block, not Writer's

I haven’t written a paragraph in almost a month now. No, it can’t be Writer’s Block since I'm not a writer. It’s not much of my concern either. At least not as much as Idiot's Block is. And the worst part is, I'm not even growing wise. It's more confusing than the reason why we signed up for life. Besides, I’m just a one-liner thinker who scribbles and tries way too hard to be funny. In raunchier terms, I’m a writer’s version of one-night stand. Sitting down to write an essay or an article is a torture to be very honest. The kind of time and dedication it takes is sadistic but (sadly) rewarding at the very same time. On the contrary, when you produce an one-liner, there is nothing to lose. You have this idea and all you have to do is put it within a sentence or two and lo you are done! [In related news, I just completed a paragraph.]

Even right now, as I’m typing whatever you are reading, I’ve got no concrete plot to come up with. Like they lie, I’m just going with the flow. Sometimes it’s hard to accept that you are no Pamuk especially when you are writing Grade A bullshit. But somewhere, deep down inside, you have this untouched poetry. Each one of us does. No kidding. This is the part which often stays unexplored. There is a bit of poetry in every human being. Only the lucky few get to share it with others. But then, most of us are neurotically indolent so that kills the suspense. In other words, laziness always replays a huge part in our failures. One needs to get organized and then go ahead with the plan. Like writers do. With research related stuff which I’m totally averse to. (See, the last two lines rhyme!)

That’s it.

I’ve nothing else to babble about. Yes, I can crack some cheap jokes on Baba Ramdev’s antics and PM Singh’s eternal silence or take a dig at the way humankind has totally lost itself in the ring-a-round materialistic whirlpool. But the truth is I had to update my blog page and obviously, I don’t follow rich principles when it comes to photoshopping of thoughts in words. And that’s the reason my fingers are still dancing on the keyboard. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have even reached this third paragraph.

Every once in a while, I try to gauge how a human being can create such fat books full of ideas. No wonder one-lining seems a lot more appealing and of course, easier. Furthermore, there is never a lack of incidents to comment on be it a colleague’s goof-up or your own or snobbish celebrities or politicians or some sports rivals. However, the moment I get down to write a 500-words rough draft, my brain instantly files for divorce. Although there are million of secrets to be told and billions of stories to be sold, I’ll be totally out of topic. That’s how *thinks* are as of now. Perhaps I’m one of those writers who suffer from Writer’s Block even before becoming one.