Writing is hard.

Sometimes you can spend an entire morn­ing star­ing blankly at a page, unable for force out even the most bare of syl­lables. Try as you might, you can­not find the will to write. Sometimes you feel like quit­ting, other times you do quit. Mostly though, you sit and stare. The blank page is hate­ful, cruel, and not a very nice thing. It needs to be filled with lan­guage to tem­per its evil. So how does one start when the uni­verse con­trives to stifle your cre­ativ­ity? Start with a word, on a par­tic­u­larly bad d that word may be bland an unin­spir­ing, but it’s a start none the less and a word almost invari­ably leads to another word.

The”

The what?

The… butts.”

Really? This may have poten­tial! What about these butts?

The butts… smell?”

Of course! How could I have not real­ized! Go on, tell me more!

The butts smell, so… I… cleaned them…”

Yes, yes, continue!

The ash­tray was filthy, I knew that my room­mates were start­ing to get annoyed, and since I was the only smoker in the house it was my respons­ib­il­ity to take care of my ashy mess. I know this, I was also aware just how much more they would tol­er­ate before their pass­ive aggres­sion would turn to out­right hos­til­ity. I’m a good judge of char­ac­ter I must say. If I didn’t take care of this today, I might find myself look­ing for a new home tomor­row. Did I wan’t to find a new home?”

You see how one ques­tion leads to another, and all ques­tions derive answers that invoke more ques­tions, at least I assume this to be the case…

Naturally, a per­son prob­ably wouldn’t choose house hunt­ing over a clean ash­tray… because even a new place would need to be cleaned on occasion.

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