Dear Writer's Block, that's all you are, just a small obstacle on the road to my dreams. Dreams of expressing myself, of sharing my thoughts and feelings with the world. Honestly it's not really you that is causing the trouble. It's me not searching out my niche, my core where the words, and the stories come from. I know this is true because three years ago I wrote such a story, and it was published.
The real problem is that I have been off the back of the motorcycle for too long. When I'm on the Harley, and cruising along the bike, and I become one unit gliding through the the wind, moving with ease through every turn, leaning and pushing. The acceleration tugs at my stomach and all my feelings are manifested as words that I want to write about. Being on the motorcyle allows me to clarify, and organize my thoughts.
So really your not there at all. You don't exist in my life at all. In truth I have simply not spent enough time with my thoughts, with my fellings with my muses, the Harley, the wind, and the world. So really this letter may come as a surprise to you, and much as it has clarified my thoughts and ideas about writing. I'm not really sorry that we were never really introduced. I'm not sorry that I have had to stare a blank space where my words should be because you were running amuck in my brain. You are one acquanitance that I am glad not to have made.