When you try and force it, it doesn’t come. You just gotta be prepared when it does come.

Writer’s block has been kicking my ass. I went to the places that were familiar. Nothing. Just glazing off in the distance, trying to picture what I’m trying to say or write.

So many thoughts are rampant through my mind, and it’s a challenge to transcribe it all on paper. I think what helps is composing it line by line. Write one line, then take 10-15 minutes to think about the next line.

Scratch that. This is just a throwaway. Maybe it’s naive to think I haven’t done this in a while and can come back and write some poignant shit. Nah, it’s gonna take some time to cultivate a new style…

That’s the struggle; I don’t want my new shit to sound like my old shit.

…Maybe that’s why I can’t write shit? I’m going to the old places expecting new inspiration. It just becomes reflective.  

Ahh. Now we’re getting somewhere.

One of my first pieces of writing under the pseudonym StandPat.

I mean, between Beautiful Trash & FreeSense, I easily spent over 10k hours. I recall the first shit, “Cathartic FreeWriting.” You would’ve thought I was writing a dissertation. It took countless hours of refinements and tweaks to build the voice.

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It was StandPat then; it’s PATCHYp now. So, if you’re reading this (well, obviously you are), I’m asking for a little patience. Check out the featured writings from FreeSense as a reference for a completed body of literature.

Check out “Who is PATCHYp?” for insight into how I intend to approach my future writings. I’m confident that whatever the finished work is, it will hit the mark.

This isn’t much. It’s like shooting free-throws after not picking up a basketball in ten years. Eventually muscle memory will return, but I might brick a couple of shots, at least in the beginning. This is nothing about much.