12 bar blues

I've got them. Spent about as long as I did Monday writing, and got an equally pitiful amount done. And similar to Monday, I feel I will have to rewrite the last four bars or so.

I don't get it. There's a freaking concrete wall in my head, separating what I do write from all the cool possibilities of what I COULD write.

I have found that I often cheer myself on with a good ole bronx cheer, and also bang on the piano screaming obscenities when I've written something particularly dreadful.

pffffft *bang* FUCK!