just add words, garlic, lemon, and fire--stir and trust

I think I've maybe been experiencing writer's block. I've never quite known what degree of non-writing one has to be experiencing in order to admit 'writer's block,' but I think I might have approached that place. I seem not to be able to create a beautiful string of words. I seem to not be able to craft a poetic paragraph. I'm unable to focus and easily distracted. The non-writing is painful. Utterly painful. I cannot bear this inability to express beauty. My writing lacks intensity. I've been feeling at a place of numb stasis. Two nights ago I mashed an entire bulb of garlic in my mortar and pestle with salt and added olive oil gradually until the garlic became a creamy paste, then I sprinkled black pepper over the paste until the cream was completely covered in pepper dust. I stirred in the pepper and added lemon until the entire mixture was singing with a flavor zinging with high-pitched intensity, and then I poured the dressing over a purposefully small amount of greens and some of the last tomatoes from the garden. I chose the small amount of greens in order to ensure that the intensity of the dressing would remain maximum-ly concentrated in every bite. I pierced the greens and tomatoes until they were stacked on my fork in a bite too big for my mouth and then I wrapped my mouth around the entire bouquet and crunched into the burst of slippery garlic lemon pepper infusing my galaxy of tastebuds and olfactory sensors with an endorphin release akin to a meteor shower. My nose and cheekbones began sweating, my palate was humming, even my eyebrows went moist. I ate every bite and then drank the remainder. The next morning I was dismayed to find myself still depressed. Then I saw that it was a full moon in Taurus, opposite Mars, which according to Llewellyn's 2008 datebook, makes doing direct work difficult. So as per a suggestion on pg 119, I did a banishing ritual. I melted the bottom of a birthday candle so I could stand it upright on a small saucer. Then I lit the candle and focused on the flame and I said "writer's block be gone" repeating this mantra continually while watching the candle melt away. It was a stunning phenomenom to watch the candle disappearing before my very eyes. And then suddenly, poof, it was completely gone. Not a trace of wax or wick remained on my plate. I felt a sharp exhale leave my lungs, and I said, "So mote it be."