Appreciation 

“Stop. Don’t even think about that.”

“We both can’t do anything about it.”

“You can, so just stop!”

“I believe that artists are truly appreciated only after their death. In a perfect world, they would get their deserved recognition during their time on earth.”

“There is no such thing as ideal conditions. If there were, you wouldn’t even call yourself an artist. Suffering comes with the package.”

“Maybe it was a wrong career path.”

“I thought writing chose you, not the other way around.”

“Sure, but maybe it wasn’t really my calling. Now that I’ve been doing it for such a long time, I feel that it needs someone stronger. Mentally. Someone with a vision. Someone who wouldn’t suffer as much during his pursuit.”

“Pursuit of what?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s your goal? Why do you write?”

“I don’t have a choice. I do it because it’s equivalent to drinking and eating.”

“Then why did you start?”

“Well because I thought that expressing my feelings would make me feel better. Then I guess, it became an addiction.”

“Maybe that’s why you never get better. Maybe it’s a circle you’ve dragged yourself into.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that maybe you find your inspiration through hard times, write about that, get acclaimed for your writing. But then out of fear of not finding inspiration again, you never let yourself out of this dark place.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy.”

“Maybe it is.”

“I don’t know.”

“Think about it. Maybe you’ve never been depressed in the first place. It was you all along playing tricks on yourself. All for the sake of art. So maybe you were meant to be an artist after all.”

“So I’m doomed.”

“Doomed?”

“I have to die for the sake of my art.”

“Oh god no!”

“Yes.”

“Don’t even go there. Stop playing the victim!”

“And maybe after my death or in another life, I’ll be cherished and appreciated. Life will be great again then.”

“Stop. Don’t even think about that.”

“You can’t do anything about it.”

“But you can, so just stop!”

Diary of a Lonely Shrink

Chapter 01: Karim

“In what ways would the world be different if you hadn’t been born?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on Karim, give it a little thought.”

Karim stared at him for a minute then sighed.

“I have no idea.”

“I cannot help you if you don’t try a little harder. We talked about this.”

He put his glasses back on and wrote down few notes.

“You write something every time I don’t ‘participate’.”

He kept on writing, paying no attention to Karim.

“I’m miserable, doc’!”

He let go of the pen then removed his glasses.

“Why is that, Karim?”

“I’ll never be good enough to anyone.”

“You shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. I’m only a disappointment to everyone around me.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a little. A lot.”

“That’s what they all tell me.”

“Maybe they have a point. I mean, maybe you should try to trust a little more. Maybe try to be a little more confident or see things from a different perspective. A more optimistic perspective.”

Karim laughed.

“They tell me that too.”

Karim stood up and started walking around the room under his observing eyes.

“It’s not like I’m not trying, you know? Actually, I don’t know. I’m just giving up.”

He looked at his patient.

“We all have these moments. I promise you that it will pass.”

Karim nodded as he looked at the huge bookshelves surrounding the office. He stared at him for a moment, trying to keep the conversation going.

“It’s a technique I learned.”

Karim turned to him.

“What? What technique?”

“I pretend to take notes and you immediately start talking. And you spill out whatever’s on your mind.”

Karim laughed.

“What other techniques do you use on me?”

“Ah plenty, but like a good magician, I must never reveal my tricks. I already jeopardized a lot by telling you this small secret.”

They both laughed. His phone beeped. He looked at it.

“Well our time is up for today, but I want you to think about what I asked you earlier.”

He stood up as Karim came closer to him.

“How the world would be different if you weren’t born?”

Karim shrugged.

“A happier place, probably.

Karim had the saddest smile on his face.

“Good night, doc’. Drive safe.”

He watched as Karim left the room defeated. He probably shouldn’t have said that. He should never have given him the opportunity to end on a bad note

“Hey, Karim.”

“Yes?”

“I’m expecting you at 8 on Friday.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it, you know that. See you then!”

Karim left the room as the shrink took a breath of relief. Suicide postponed. At least until Friday.

He sat behind his desk.

Done for the day but he just wasn’t ready to go home. He opened one of his drawers and took out his favorite Scotch. He took the remote and turned on his stereo. And as Jazz started to play, he started to drink.

He drank to the tunes and never got up until hours later. He put everything back in order and stood by the window.

“How the world would be different if I hadn’t been born?”

He thought about that for a moment and as he looked at the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city.

“Midnight. Right on queue” he mumbled. “Better head home then.”


End of Chapter 01

Protection

She had protected herself… She tried to at least.

Sometimes when you keep your guards up, you also keep the good people away. But she had become prisoner of her own fear and doubt.

But if the one person she trusted above any other could leave her so easily, how could she fight this fear. The person she loved the most, the only one – she felt – who didn’t just tolerate her but actually enjoyed her company. Why on earth would she ever let anyone else in? Why in the world would ever trust again? How could she hope that their feelings would honest, or hope they would share whatever feelings she might have for them, or hope that they won’t just get up and leave, or hope they remain in her indefinitely?

“Hi.”

She could feel her aching. His voice had never sounded so cold.

She turned to him. “Hi.”

“I brought you some breakfast.” He puts two plastic cups of coffee and a couple of sandwiches on the bedside table.

He took his cup and drank silently as she stared at him, replaying the events of last night. She ruined their plans after she came up with them.

“I’m sorr…”

“It’s fine. You need time. I get it.”

Did he really?

“I shouldn’t have rushed you like that.”

“You didn’t. I wanted this too.”

She sat on the bed.

“I don’t know what to do.”

He came closer and sat next to her.

“None of us really do.”

His hand brought her closer to him.

“We just need someone to tag along.”

She looked at him and smiled.

“We just need someone to protect us.”

Writer’s Block – Part II

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Writer’s Block – Part I


The paper is blank.

He continues to stare.

The paper is still blank.

He sighs.

There’s a secret. He was only going to hint at it. If only he knew what the secret was. Okay okay, he can do it.

He takes his pen, looks at the blank paper then write his new first line.

“They found his diary under his bed.”

This is good. This is good. This is intriguing. Right?

Okay, keep going.

“They found his diary under his bed. All the confessions he never dared to share, everything was on this notebook. His fears, his fantasies, his loves, his clients.”

Clients? Okay, he could work with that.

He turned to his precious notebook. “You have reached the second paragraph. How are you going to fill this one? Relax, you’re still on the first page. Most readers will stick with a story for at least the first page – but if it gets boring…”

“Boring” such a scary word. But this wasn’t boring, right?

“Bring in something new. Something that the central character is doing that is unusual – like hanging about in pouring rain. Why would anyone stand in pouring rain, unless there was some important reason that compelled them to?”

Something unusual. Pouring rain. But it makes no sense, he just wrote a guy with a diary and some clients. Is he meeting a client under the rain? This is getting confusing.

Okay so clients, secrets, diary, rain.

He sighs.

Maybe he should get some coffee. Get the ideas flowing. Yes, he should do that. Coffee, ideas, inspiration, good story. That’s the plan! Great plan! Okay, coffee.

He leaves the desk and walks to the kitchen. He stands for a second. Coffeeshop it is.

End of Part II


Hey again, I think this story will keep going for one more chapter. I don’t know what you thought of it (it was actually hard than part I). Thank you for reading and I would like to also thank one more time the WRITERS BLANK PAGE ELIMINATOR – from where I took the liberty to borrow their tips and use them in this story.