One always hears about a writer's fear of the empty page. Probably that's a saying dating from the time writers were using pens or type writers. In these modern times we're living in, writers have to cope with an increase of the blank page: the cursor.
Nothing is as depressing as the blinking vertical line in a freshly opened document in my text editor. Even when I do not look at the screen, I can see it blinking – on, off, on, off, on, … - in either corner of my eyes, as if it is screaming for attention jovially: “Yoohoo, there’s an empty sheet here, time to fill it up…!”
The weird thing is that it’s impossible to let the thing blink for a longer period of time. Then there are two solutions: either I would close the document, empty as it is - in that case I am disappointed and frustrated, and soon after I would hate my whole life and am likely to throw away any ambition of becoming a writer – or I just start hitting the keys, forming words, filling lines; so that at least this merciless cursor stops blinking and crosses the page, that slowly becomes less white.
The second thing is basically what has just happened.