I close my eyes and search for some inspiration.
then I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, and hope,
hope that magically some inspiration hits me.
I stare out the window and into the world beyond
but again nothing.
Nothing comes to me.
Nothing screams for me to write.
Again, I’m lost now more then ever.
Everything I try just drives me farther into an endless labyrinth.
I feel like I’m in a world were only nightmares live.
I have to struggle to survive.
I have to run, but I don’t know if its toward the exit or into the heart
of the nightmare.
Once in a while I see a small light in the distance
that might be the way out, that might be an idea.
I reach for it and just as my finger brushes against it,
it disappears.
And I plunge back into the nightmare and the darkness.
I’m running through the labyrinth
Just when I want to give up.
As soon as I try to I’m blasted with a light brighter
than a thousand suns.
I jump up and charge toward it.
I dash around corners and leap through openings,
hoping to get there before it diminishes.
It doesn’t.
If anything it just glows more brightly with every step.
I’m blinded, but I don’t care.
I run as fast as my legs can carry me
to the exit and the idea.
I allow the idea to absorb into me.
And I feel its warmth on my skin.
The pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
I realize I’ve had the idea all along.
To write about being lost and clueless.