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The text to correct from user spicypepper

Stable. A white page. I slam my pen on the table leaf of my desk over and over again. I hope to whip, shake and stimulate my overlong sleeping thoughts.
"A block". "The block". My creativity left me, she was fed up with being raped and crushed by the past failures. She was unreserved­ly devoted to write my last novel, nowadays sold and prostitute­d to the highest bidder. She was dedicated to choose the right bland of bleach, which marked forever my favourite sweater. She was donated to the umpteenth love of my life, who left with no return date.
How I can blame her, she was raped and frustrated and now she deals no more with me.
It is impossible thinking to extort her a beginning for a new story...
I require writing and escaping or leaving, experienci­ng new tastes and smells. I need to travel to places never visited before and to meet people ever known. Escaping and seeking asylum in the dreams of my imaginatio­n. I have to jump from this precipice and fall toward the ravine of the imaginatio­n, leaving behind the abyss of the harsh reality.
Language: English   Language Skills: Native speaker, Proficiency

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