Does writer's block even exist? I don't believe in it. You always have something to say. While I agree that there is a blockage of sorts, I'm convinced it is self-imposed. It is a loss of interest in the writing process and it is induced by self-doubt. It is writer's clog. And it is the writer's own handiwork.
Sometimes I sit here thinking, is this even worth writing about? Does anyone care? Do I even care? It's as if all the weight of the world, my misanthropy, and self-loathing collide and all the words I know conspire to betray me; ideas are rotten fruit to be discarded with due revulsion; my notions about, well, just about anything, are far-fetched and worthless and better left buried in my head space. Because that's what I have, a head with space in it.
I hate myself a little bit, and the world a little bit, and this stupid compulsion to write. Because it is useless and because I, too, am useless, and there is nothing worse than to feel useless, especially when it's about something you don't want to be useless at. Just ask an injured athlete. Or a dickless pornstar.
Not that writers are anything like pornstars or athletes. They wish! This one saying has always stayed with me: "Those who can, do, and those who can't, teach." To that I will add, "and those who cannot do either, write".
So write, goddammit, and stop clogging the fuckin' pipes.