I don't know what to write about. I sit for hours, days even, and I am still unable to think of anything. Not even stupid ideas, things that have been done before, not even anything I can scrap when I think something better. Being a writer means that this is a constant thing. It's an every day occurrence for me to go through the stages of dreaded Writer's Block.

It starts with staring. Staring at the screen until you can't handle it anymore. Eyes flip back and forth between the computer, phone, and the television, hoping something would jump out at you. You get bored seeing the same thing, then start thinking some more. Your mind blanks.

Then you're Googling, scanning different websites and headlines, trying to connect yourself to an idea. Nothing. You take hundreds of breaks, hoping the time away will help you figure it out in a snap. That's not happening. What do you even like? What do you dislike? You feel as if you lack knowledge that other writers possess. They have this secret portion within their brains that flick on, telling them how to cope and what to write about.

You try an idea, nothing special. Three sentences in, you drop it. Delete. You feel pathetic, as if you'll never come up with something more clever than the last or the one before that. It's all the same. A breakup, a college piece, parents, etc. Even fiction feels difficult. You're using standard words and ideas that make your skin crawl when you read a magazine containing something even remotely similar.

You wait a day and return back. Sleeping on it hasn't done much for you. Trying something else feels repetitive, overdone, reused. You question yourself, your thoughts, your creativity, or lack thereof. You want to just push through an old idea and take the shame and embarrassment when it flops and your regret your skills. Still not knowing what to do, think, write.

Then, a break down. Noting serious. Just immense frustration and self-doubt. Anger. A need to get away, to just finish it and be done. A deadline is approaching, whether it's set by you or someone else. You pull at the hair by your scalp, stretch back, and take a deep breath. Maybe it'll help. Maybe something will come to you.

And finally, here you are, writing about writing. Writing about how it feels to be blocked in the brain, lacking ideas of any kind. Yes, it's a pathetic choice and maybe an easy way out, but it's a relief. You find a topic and you're fine. Until you have to write again...