The Brutality of Counting Words

Write!”

“Write what?”

 “Try something relevant.”

“Is there a point?"

“The point is…just write.”

“I really have nothing to say.”

“If you sit there, maybe you will.”

“I sit here daily though, and nothing happens.”

“Perhaps today will be a magical day for you.”

“I’m fairly certain I have nothing at all to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything, but rather, to write.”

“Telling me that is not going to make me write anything relevant.”

“Well, perhaps if you try a little bit harder, you will find something.”

“Now I’ve lost my thoughts, and this conversation is starting to get very annoying.”

“You know, I really think you have failed to put any effort into this project.”

“Oh, I think this might be the worst… project did you call it…I’ve ever tried.”

“I do not understand why you won’t just sit there and let something come into your head.”

“I have been sitting here for nearly ten minutes waiting for a moment of clarity or literary inspiration.”

“It seems your problem is directly related to the fact that you are fighting against yourself and not writing.”

“Please do not tell me that I am supposed to be writing instead of sitting here having this senseless argument.”

“This senseless argument is meant to stimulate your mind and make you find those lost words begging to leave your pen.”

“My pen has found many other means of inspiration and having a senseless argument about lost words is not helping the cause.”

“I am in total accord that there are other means of inspiration floating out there in this world, but my way is best.”

“How can you make the argument that your way is the best, when I am sitting here frustrated beyond belief that I can’t write.”

“Your entire proposition that you can’t write comes from a negative place within yourself and creates a block, that my senseless arguments will ultimately break.”

“Do you have any idea whether this is going to take place within the next hour or so because I have a lot to do today?”

“The argument will end when you put forth enough effort to take out your pen and write  something that you can walk away and feel good about.”

“ I’m far less concerned about this argument ending, than I am about the quality of the writing and my good feelings about the manner in which I write.”

“It seems to me, that the manner in which you write is exactly the issue I am trying to  address by making this completely senseless argument about your writing.”

“I think we would both be better off if we sat here in total silence and waited for something to come along and inspire me to write something of relevance.”

“At this point, I think it’s time for me to leave you alone in your silence and go to another meeting of writers, so I can inspire them with my wisdom.”

“I find it astonishing that you can just walk away from this without seeing the pure genius that is about to come out of me and enter the world of the living.”

“That may be so, however, I believe I have accomplished what I set out here to do when I arrived at this place and looked into your sad eyes, commanding you to write.”

“When I arrived here, you were sitting on that bench playing a solo chess game, drinking a cherry cola, and begging the cruel world for attention, all the while sounding like a blithering idiot.”

“Speaking with a humble heart, I’d say that the reason I came here today with my chessboard, my angst, and my cherry cola, was to inspire a man to remove himself from his imprisoning pen.”

“ And in the end, I thank you for what you have achieved; significant, because you have caused me to express myself with my voice, instead of using these repressive and irrelevant inkblots to represent my soul.”

The End

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