In a Writer's Mind

I had only one goal, and nothing was going to stop me from achieving it.

Placing myself down on the short, dark green couch in the main common room of our humbly messy abode, I opened my silver laptop and turned it on, ready to sit down and type words onto a page to create an imaginary world for readers to enjoy. The start-up screen's circle of dots spun around -- Loading, loading, loading, taking what seemed like forever to finally complete the start-up process.

The login screen initialized, the picture I chose several months ago pulling up for me to enjoy as I awaited the password bar to load. The pinks, blues, and purples mixing together behind three main characters from a show I had watched three times over while awaiting the second season -- along with the promised movie -- to be released in a little less than a year. I wished it would be released sooner, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. So, I just sat there, enjoying the beautifulness of the picture I chose as I waited to put the password in.

Finally logged in, I bring my mouse towards the multicolored internet icon at the bottom of the screen before I was interrupted by one of the notifications that popped up. It was from my gaming platform; someone wanted to be my friend! My mouse then changes direction, heading towards the circular, dark blue icon that was plastered in front of my home screen picture, which consisted of five main characters from a different show that I had yet to finish watching. I had heard a new season recently came out, so I was excited to watch some more of it.

I double-clicked the gaming platform icon, waiting the few seconds for the said window to pop up, then went to accept the friend request, blabbering on and on about it to my younger sibling who sat on the longer, identical couch to where I was sitting. She didn't care all too much; she was busy reading a book she thought was really good.

Eventually, I exited out of the gaming platform window and finally pulled up the internet document creator I typically used to write stories. I did other things on it, too, like make lists and the occasional story outline, but what I mainly did was write.

With a new, empty document staring up at me from the webpage and a crisp, new story playing in my head, I placed my fingers on the keyboard and...

Nothing.

Words that were previously flowing through my head just moments before vanished. Sentences and paragraphs gone without a trace. Scenes that were playing out perfectly in my mind refused to be put into the words necessary to make any sort of sense on paper.

I stared at the blank page for what more than twenty minutes -- though that may be a bit of an exaggeration -- with no words coming to mind. Occasionally I would find my fingers pressing down on random keys, letters popping up on the screen in a nonsensical order. First, a P would come up, then an O, then an E, then another couple of O's and E's until I erased it all, pressing down the backspace until all I had left was a blank, white page again.

After a while, I pulled up a new tab, deciding to look away from the blank space to find some sort of inspiration to get the words flowing again. I spent the next hour watching different videos on one of my favorite web pages at that point in time -- none of them having anything to do with the story I had in mind to write, or story writing in general.

When I finally decided to get back to writing, not much had changed; no words were coming out that I could type to get the desired effect. The page remained blank for the next few hours, my mind becoming lost to anxiety and impatience with every second that passed. My fingers ached to begin writing, but I was at a loss as to what words even were.

That was when I heard it: The voice. It was telling me something. It was the thing I had been searching for. The hours I wasted staring at a blank screen were no longer relevant. I could finally begin writing the story.

The first line. It was the thing to catch reader's attention -- keep them interested in what you had to say, the story you had to tell. It was the hardest part of the story to think up.

With the first line down, I was able to come up with the first paragraph with no problem before I was once again at a loss for words. Not only were words no longer a thing that existed, but I wasn't all too pleased with what I did have down.

Not like I was ever pleased with what came out first when writing a new story. It was just something that happened.

Before I could worry about it too much, I was sent an errand -- It was hamburger night, and it was my turn to be sent to our local hamburger joint to get my family's dinner. The burger place was filled to the brim with people; so instead, I went to the drive-in fast food place around the corner from where we lived. Three cheeseburgers with mayonnaise for my sisters and me, a hamburger with mayo and mustard for Mom, and four large french fries -- two for my sisters, Mom, and myself to split, and two for Dad who became a vegan sometime within the last year.

When I got back home, I continued to stare at my screen, now with a full paragraph on it, while I ate my cheeseburger and drank my sweet tea. 

My taste in sweet tea can be a bit picky at times. Over the years I've determined my favorite brand of premade sweet tea and kept several jugs of it stocked in the mini-fridge I had in my bedroom.

I might not have a closet in my bedroom, but my mini-fridge with a built-in freezer sure does make up for it.

After I finished my dinner, I was able to come up with two more adequate-enough paragraphs before erasing the entire thing, leaving only the opening line intact. It took the next few hours of writing, erasing, rewriting, and more erasing before I finally realized that it wasn't worth the stress it was causing me.

It was only a short story. A short story that didn't really need to exist in the first place. I had other stories already going that I needed to update for those who have already begun to read them. It would be a shame to lose those few readers that I have by not continuing the story for them. Perhaps I should have given up from the beginning. Not to mention all the annoying glitches my computer was making while writing it. I was getting angered by something that shouldn't be that angering.

I had only one goal, but the one thing that was keeping me from achieving it was my greatest adversary: Myself.