1. Write.
Write jibberish. Write stupidity. Write your feelings. Then, write why your feelings are dumb. Write why you love someone. Then, write all the things you hate about someone. Write why liberals are stupid. Then, write why conservatives are dumb. Write about racism, prejudice, and social justice. Then, write why you can’t stand certain people, certain races, and certain cultures. Just fucking write. And write unapologetically.
2. Go out.
Writer’s Block is a symptom of boredom and nothing to write about. Go out. See things. Be inspired. Be maddened. Be happy. Be sad. Get the fuck out. The worst type of writing comes from the worst type of writers who write in a vacuum outside of reality. Like a unionized teacher who has no fucking clue what the world outside of academia is like, preaching to their entrepreneurial kid’s success principles.
Inspiration doesn’t come from within. It comes from outside. It seeds itself into your pathetic soul, and then one day, you wake up yelling Eureka! Thinking, “Inspiration comes from within.” No. Ghandi wasn’t inspired to end colonialism because he was playing the latest Call of Duty on PlayStation. Martin Luther King Jr wasn’t inspired by smoking weed listening to the latest trap track. Get the fuck out and experience reality. Experience the bus. Experience the drink. Experience children playing in the park and children whining on a plane. Experience the good. Experience the bad. Get the fuck out.
3. STFU.
The worst thing that you can do is open your fat fucking mouth. So shut it. Here’s what happens: You’ve finally formed exciting and dangerous opinions. You have a position on things. You got a point to make! Maybe it’s about the way the world should be. Maybe it’s about why Trump is and forever will be the greatest president of the United States of America, and we should imprison anyone sporting pink or blue hair. Or perhaps you have a solid case to finally end the discussion on quantum mechanics and the fabric of reality.
The worst thing you can do is open your mouth.
So, you’re sitting there listening to a bunch of buffoons talk about a subject, and then it happens. A spark ignites inside, a fire starts burning, and finally, you breathe dragon fire all over everyone, making your epic points known.
No.
Here’s what you really did.
You joined the buffoons and spewed out vomit that even God and your mother find disgusting. Nobody cares. You also did yourself another disservice. You ran out of steam. The raw materials the universe gave you to write about, you expended in one fucking shot, in between a few tequila shots at the bar, and forever, that shit is gone. You go home drunk in the evening. You wake up, trying to fulfill your promise to write, and you have nothing to write about. Good job, Buckaroo.
4. Write again, and some more.
Write anywhere, and everywhere.
Some of my greatest pieces (I think they’re great and that’s all that matters to me when I go to sleep) came when I emailed myself, puking everything out in my smartphone, vs talking to the people around me.
- I wrote to myself while hiking towards a beautiful water in the mountains of Bali, Indonesia.
- I wrote to myself in between inhaling massive balloons before the New Year countdown in the heart of Ho Chi Minh City.
- I wrote to myself right after making love.
- I wrote to myself, sitting on the john, taking epic dumps, writing epic poetry.
Get used to writing to yourself, your first and most important fan.
Write to write, not to be read or heard. Write because your stupid, idiotic pedestrian thoughts deserve to be captured because regardless of how pathetic you and your life are, you’re still made up of stardust.
I’m currently in the mountains of Bali, Indonesia. I cut short my workout because I was inspired to write. I’m sitting half-naked, eating a chocolate banana-protein smoothie. But I’m writing. And perhaps I’ll read this later and think, wow, KM, “This was shite.” But truthfully, I won’t. Because I’m made up of stardust. And even shite is made up of star dust.
So I go back to the source, not the manifestations.
Now go write.
