Roadblock

It’s dark.
I can’t see.
But I can hear the rain, pummeling the sidewalk like a heavyweight prize fighter.
And I can feel the moisture in my multiple-post-operative right knee that will undoubtedly need replacement at some point in the future.
I’d like to be bionic, actually.
Who says it doesn’t rain in Vegas?

The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain.
Shut up, Eliza, I’m trying to think.

Why is it some people have an endless surplus of ideas giving them hours and hours of writing inspiration?
And others, like me, can’t think of a single thing.
Perhaps it’s the plethora of legal blogs and other nonfiction fare that consumes my body, mind and soul.
Day in, day out.
Winter, spring, summer, and fall.
Daytime.
Nighttime.
Prime time.
Drunk driving defense, Miranda warnings, crane accidents and the like.
While informative (to someone, anyway) they lack in making my imagination take flight.

How can I overcome this relentless writer’s block?
As I read and watch TV and movies, every idea I have has already been done.
Sometimes ad nauseum.
Although Hollywood doesn’t care with its incessant remakes, sequels, and prequels.
But I do.
I want to be different.
Unique.
Interesting.
And always funny.
Does CVS have a topical ointment?

“The block of granite which was an obstacle in the pathway of the weak, became a stepping-stone in the pathway of the strong.” Thomas Carlysle

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