When the mind goes blank
Many times, while writing, our mind goes blank and it seems as if the brain has gone on an indefinite hunger strike, taking the fingers as its followers.
The brain is a capricious organ. It does whatever it wants if we give it free rein.
But if we want to achieve something, which will be meaningless in the grand scheme of things anyway, we must blackmail the brain to do our bidding.
We must kidnap its loved one and call it from an untrackable payphone. We must ask work as a ransom for the return of its loved ones and then repeat the cycle all over again.
I know this makes it sound brutal and inhumane. But that is the point.
(Whenever you say something that is confusing, say, “That is the point!” and it becomes the point in mysterious ways.)
Sometimes the brain is like a captured enemy spy. You have to beat the shit out of him to get some information out.
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