On your marks, get set...

On a precipice, the line of a notepad, then plunging in to a sea of words, of blue squiggles, only decipherable to me, so I can camouflage my vulnerability.
 
The procrasti – did I leave the gas on? The procrastinay – I’m not sure I locked the back door. The procrastinate – we’ve run out of milk. PROCRASTINATION can be an issue. So sometimes I need to be tricked into writing. It is very like getting into the sea; dead metaphors lurk like jellyfish tentacles, luring you into slimy, useless embraces.
  

Fear of beginning, of ‘what I might write might not be quite as good as Shakespeare’ has halted many a mediocre writer. Why, sometimes it even halts me. Often the first few paragraphs of what I write are shite. I couldn’t resist the rhyme there and I’ve just demonstrated what I mean perfectly. I suppose it’s about getting anything down and chopping away later.  

If I over-analyse when blocked, awful things happen in my mind. Where are the ideas? Where are the words? Will they ever come again? Have I lost it? Did I ever have it? 
So I’ll just throw myself into the sea. Bring on the lazy metaphors, indulge the proliferation of alliteration, have fun splashing in sentences. Swimming is a bit like flying, flying is a bit like writing, and writing is blissful when we find our flow.