Day Two

Geez, what’s wrong with me? I’ve been staring at these blank pages for over ten minutes thinking how to put into words what I want to say… and nothing! Absolutely nothing. I guess I’ve got what people in the publishing world call “writer’s block.” Not a very nice feeling, I must say. You know you’ve got so much to tell and write about, but your hand stays frozen like a statue (oops, that’s probably what Ms Williams, my old English teacher at Seaview High, called a mixed metaphor!) and, well, the upshot is that I now know what the tin man in The Wizard of Oz felt like when Dorothy stumbled upon him in Wonderland (or was that Alice, or have I gotten my stories completely mixed up again?). Anyway, not that I need a new heart in my empty chest (or maybe I do, because this one seems awfully heavy and fragile at the moment), only that when it comes to saying what I really want to say my body seems to be full of rust. I need some kind of oil – some kind of emotional lubrication, I guess – to free up all the stickiness in my mouth and hands and mind.