Lost

          As children we have the wildest imaginations, the strangest beliefs and an uncommonly high level of faith in the impossible. We are more than ready to believe in a “Fairy” who likes to collect ‘teeth.’ We don’t feel a bit sorry for a fat considerably old man who has to travel around the world in a single night giving every child a gift. What then happens to us? Where exactly do we stop believing in the impossible? Is ‘growing up’ really an answer for this sudden loss of faith?

          When I watched toy story with my older sister I remember waking up in the middle of the night hoping to catch my toys enjoying a tea party or something like that. When Harry potter and the sorcerers stone (the book) came out, I remember believing in magic. I was exactly 11 years old and a small part of me really wanted an owl to come to my house with a letter from Hogwarts.

          As I grew older I saw my belief turn into hope. Things I was absolutely certain of at one point in time began to be shaded with the evil of doubt. Its a sad truth that once doubt begins to set into your mind it is extremely irksome pest that is hard to get rid of. You begin to rationalize every pure miracle that you see.
 I still believe in Magic I see it in nature everyday, all you have to do is take of those blindfolds of doubt and maybe you would see it too.

          As a child I wished for my eyes to magically turn blue. I wished that a close relative of mine was actually a King. I wished animals could speak. I wished mermaids and Dragons were real. I wished that maybe somewhere... there was a small country made of chocolate.

What did you wish for…?

MALFUNCTION !

Writers block as defined by Wikipedia is a condition, associated with writing as a profession, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work, or as I fondly like to call it “Help my brain is freaking me out, it just refuses to work!”

When staring at the curser on a blank screen actually becomes interesting, you know your brain has given up for the time being. In such situations banging your laptop shut and throwing heavy stuff around the house, is not the brightest of solutions. Eating tons of delicious ice cream and fried stuff while watching old British movies, for some weird reason fails to provide the necessary inspiration.

It’s quite frightening really, when you realize those irritating taunts from siblings and bullies calling you a dodo, or some other extinct dumb creature are actually true. Your brain has in complete reality reached a stage which points at ‘empty.’  I am not really sure what the various steps are that one follows to overcome this feeling of pure uselessness, I suppose there are many. A few that I have tried, include banging my head on a semi hard surface till I couldn’t feel the surface on that part of my head anymore. I have tried draining mugs of coffee staying up for hours thinking perhaps that stinging feeling in my eyes would induce some form of creativity.

Sadly all that these experiments led to were bruised heads the damage of which could possibly be long lasting and a very strong chance of requiring glasses in the near future.  The final step that I tried at was… well writing about it… guess it worked.