God damn it all to hell. Write damn you, write. Enough excuses. All these tech toys ate into your soul. Poisons the imagination. Toil. Work. Hustle. Suffer. Burn your hands. Poke your eyes out. Melt your brains. Just do something damn you. Smoke your pipe. Pour coffee down your nostrils. Squeeze lemon in your eyes. Suffer. Pee fire. Shit bricks.
Set the cat on fire. Trim the lawn with scissors. Just get off your ass and create something. Drag it out kicking and screaming out of his hidey-hole. Sock him in the nads. Hand him a pen and paper. Tell him- go to work. Shut him in a windowless room, with only a table, a chair and a table lamp for company. Leave him gibbering mad, cold to the bones for the brightest of suns, the warmest of colours is in the head. Let the juice flow. Let it burn. Something. Anything. For fuck's sake. Live. Let the day end with something. Anything.