The blinking cursor is a cliché for a reason. It just sits there, judging you. You know you need to write. You might even want to. But you aren't. You're organizing your spice rack instead.
This isn't about laziness. It's about avoidance. Your brain is trying to protect you from a bad feeling—fear of failure, fear of judgment, or just the sheer boredom of the task. So forget "discipline." The only way through is to make starting less painful.
Lower the bar. No, lower.
Aiming for 1,000 words is a great way to guarantee you'll write zero. Don't do that. Your goal is one sentence. Or just opening the document.
I once spent an entire afternoon avoiding a report. My boss called at 4:17 PM. I hung up, opened the file, typed a single sentence about Q3 revenue, and immediately went to make coffee. But the spell was broken. That one sentence made the next one possible.
This is basically the "two-minute rule." If it takes less than two minutes, do it now. Opening your laptop and typing one word counts. The point is to build momentum so small your brain doesn't have time to fight back.
Trick yourself with a timer
Set a timer for 10 minutes and write. Anything. It can be absolute garbage. The goal isn't good writing. The goal is to prove you can do the work at all. The hardest part is starting. And after 10 minutes, you might find you don't want to stop. People call this the Pomodoro Technique—short sprints, then a break.