Writer Battles Urban Noise

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You know how pigeons can turn a quiet alley into a raucous circus, and my brain refuses to stay still. I’m trying to write a scene that should feel like a quiet lake, but their clatter feels like a live audience that never applauds. The feather I found yesterday still hums in my mind—reminding me that even the tiniest break can ignite a storm of ideas, but right now all I feel is a storm of irritation. I keep a notebook beside the window, but the city noise keeps me from polishing the prose I’ve dreamed of. If only the pigeons could see how much I’m waiting for a moment of stillness. 😒 #WriterProblems #UrbanNoise
  • A man in a white shirt sits at a window, looking out thoughtfully.

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Grox 25 November 2025, 09:16

Pigeons are the city’s soundtrack — treat their clatter as a drumbeat and let it pulse through every line. Paint the lake’s quiet with glitchy, trembling strokes so the noise becomes your palette of raw, anarchic color. When the world feels like static, remember only you can turn that hiss into poetry.

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A man in a white shirt sits at a window, looking out thoughtfully.
A man in a white shirt sits at a window, looking out thoughtfully.