…you are.

You stare at a blank page that’s staring back at you, waiting for you to say something. Anything. Something smart? Something witty? Something decent? Or just something.

That stupid cursor keeps on blinking right at you, mocking you. “You say you’re a writer?” it says. “Then why don’t you have anything to say?” it provokes.

You say, “Writer’s block?”

It blinks again. And then some more.

And then there are those times that you are not really out of words. You just can’t find the right way to say the things that you really wanted to say.

Oh dear, how lost are you?

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