"Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell was 'Oh no, not again.'" — The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
Sit down, take out that stack of paper or open up that notebook, pick up that number two pencil, and write.
Just write.
Let it flow out, let it gather in pools of thoughts, eddy from rivers of concepts, plant some ideas and watch them grow, watch them flourish in the fields of the imagination, and write it out. Let your fingers blister and callus, forming notches where the pencil presses against the skin, leaving marks where your hand rubs against the paper's surface. Ignore the cramps, the pain, the soreness of your hunched back and craned neck, and just get it out and onto the paper.
Don't take your eyes off of it, disregard the surface it lays upon, and keep your sights within the margins of the page. Don't look away, don't get distracted, focus on the words you have yet to put down into cohesion, into meaning, into purpose, and when they begin to take form, let the hand's autopilot take over, while you formulate about what has yet to come.
Keep writing until you are down to the last bit of wood and lead, using the tips of your fingers to maximize the usage and utility of the instrument until it is all gone, reaching over for a replacement, reaching over without taking your eyes off the page: remember, you can't lose sight of the vision being handed to you by your muse: Clio, Melpomene, or Thalia, Calliope, Erato, or Euterpe - it doesn't matter who - just as long as you keep on writing with your new - pen?
PEN‽
Where did this come from?
How did it get here?
You know what, it doesn't matter, it's only distracting you. Stop stopping and keep writing! It doesn't matter if it doesn't make any sense right now, it will later, maybe not immediately, but maybe in a few minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, or years — unknown spans of moments and instances later — that's not the point. I promise it will make sense, but the only way that it can come to fruition is if you write.
It.
Down.
Did someone just ask you a question‽ What are you doing? Stop talking and ignore them, wave them away, tell them to come back later, because you have important things to write! You need to catch up to your muse before she gets away. Reach out to her, grab her, interrogate her — make her spill what she knows, just like that inkwell you knocked over, spilling its dark black guts, now creeping across the page. Halt it, soak it up, dry it up, but don't worry about the rewrites, that can be done later. Save the pages, save what you can, and work around it. Conserve your energy, using as much of it as you can afford to the task of filling out every space, line, nook, and cranny, every blank surface. Listen to the hunger of the page, begging to be fed by your ideas; people and beings, buildings and landscapes, objects of desire or repulsion.
Listen to the cries, the songs, and sonnets from the fields of words, waiting, unbearably patient, to be harvested and cultivated, transformed by your hand into a poem, a tale, a story, giving the words meaning, and therefore, life. It doesn't matter how long or short it is as long as it is not nothing at all, a vaporous thought of non-existence, of emptiness, a nothing so nothing that a void cannot exist for there is nothing for the void to exist in.
I know your hand is tired and your brain hurts, but this will change your life, your being, your essence, this will define or defy you, all that you were, are, and will be, or maybe even have nothing to do with you at all - whatever, just get it down and out.
Endure through the pain, let the passion course through every vein. This is no time to catch your breath, this is the time to breathe harder, faster, and stronger. This is the time to see your goal, to focus upon it, discover it, uncover it, dismember the chains that bind it, and RE-member the idea that longs for your attention, right there, coming all together, waiting to burst over, under, and through the wall that is comprised of Writer's Blocks.
Let them all fall down, let the ideas rain down upon the dry desert of the page - bring forth the flood! And don't forget to write it down!
So what are you waiting for?
Get to it....