The cursor on the laptop screen starts blinking every time I decide to write. I try my hopeless attempt at creativity…
How many times has this blank screen angered me?
How many times have I shut the lid of my laptop in anger…sometimes in frustration?
Sometimes, the worst kind of frustration is with oneself. There is no vent for that one…There isn’t any opening.
If more days like these continued, I would have to forget about being the author I had dreamt of becoming.
The once hot coffee cup had become cold now…What I needed was a refill. Wish there was a fill of a certain type of creative juice...I knew it, coffee wasn’t going to do me any good.
While I sipped the cold coffee, my drift was towards the window which was facing the central park. Each person had a story...some stories would be interesting.
There were a few kids who were busy picking their teams.
There were a few middle aged women who were sharing something…maybe even recipes.
There was a couple walking hand in hand. They were not talking to each other.
There were a few groups of people exercising…some of which must have been preparing for the marathon.
I needed some fresh air. Maybe that would make the dried up juice flow.
Well maybe…
No comments:
Post a Comment