Watch as the dreadful writers block escapes its cage bounded by chains and barbed wire. Watch as it takes the inner thoughts of a writer and muzzles its lexicon leaving only forbidden words in its wake. Its claws, stained with the ink of the pen it has stopped, rip the words apart until they are nothing but letters written in preschool colors on a poster. Even though it has been fed, it hungers for more. It carries its heavy mangled body through the mind searching for more thoughts to destroy, more epiphanies to mangle apart, more sentences to rape to a point where they are to ashamed to finish.
It drags its clawed feet creating trenches in the ground. It passes by a ’you’ and a ‘something’, frightening them to a point where they can no longer comprehend to how to evolve. By shamelessly whipping its dreadful gaze it strikes fear into even the largest words that had been sent out to destroy the monster, but only returned smaller than they were before. It creeps and crawls till no one can hide from it; breaking the wall guarding the deepest and richest thoughts.

The fearful beast grunts and moans as it slinks its way through the mind. There is no stopping it. There is no taming it. There is simply the long dreadful times where writers wait for it to leave their minds and search for it’s dinner elsewhere. Hopefully it will find a new prey and never return; hopefully. Until then the dreadful beat hungers, and continues it scout for food.

The beast can’t be stopped; it won’t be stopped. It won’t listen to reason. I won’t pity anyone; even the writer whom can’t seem to catch a break. It’s out there, and it’s hungry. The only advice to give on this monster is to hide, and pray that it does not find you.