I've always believed writer's block existed or at least, that's the label I gave it when I couldn't write.
Growing up, my parents used to tell me to never put anything down on paper (with the exception of school work), never write anything, because it'll always get you in trouble. But, as far back as I can remember I've held a passion for books and writing. So you can probably guess, that I was always getting "in trouble".
It was extremely hard having a diary back then because it would always end up in the hands of my parents and of course, they would read it.
But, I kept on writing. Until one day, I presented my mother with an anthology I had been published in. She looked at me and said "how cute", never opening the book.
After that? I don't know what happened, but I couldn't write anymore. I didn't feel anything at the time, nothing spectacular happened, it's just that the next day and for 6 years after, I couldn't do it. I have no idea what happened to cause it. I mean, how can two words do that, right?
I gave it alot of thought a few weeks ago, sat down and forced myself to write something, anything and that seemed to do the trick. I told myself it didn't matter if the whole thing was a piece of junk, I'll fix it later. And, well, here I am.