Writer's unblock

"You're still provin' m'boy. Don't see it yet? You tryna tell the wise they aint. You tryna tell the ignant they is!  Who gon' wanna read that?"

Then it hit me, it finally pierced through. Found out the hard way why I couldn't think of more words worth writing. See I didn't have writer's block, I had sunblock on them words. Couldn't let the light touch them so all the words were dull and pasty.

See good writing is about keepin' things in transit. A good book always moves you one way or another, from there to here or here to there. You either didn't know and now you do, wasn't sure and now you are, or you were dead set in belief and now you have newborn questions, was bored to bits but now you're up all night with wonder.  A good book keeps the people in transit, but what I was saying was like a depot; words sold for free by the side of the road. Best damn words this side of the river, but they're so heavy you can't lug'em with you on your travels. Yea those words were anchored, to truth at least, but still killing the transit. 

Time now for dancing words, words that bust a move.