Muse

I’m writing again, and it feels good. I’ve got my mojo back, I’m in the groove- woo hoo.

Dry spells are never fun.

There’s that persistent nagging from the little voice in your head~

You’re convinced you will never write anything again.

You  are dry as a desert.

Empty thoughts rattle around the spaces in your head.

Eyes burn from staring at the blank page.

You try writing exercises.

You even try physical exercise.

You wake up convinced that your dream about the Flintstones is pure gold.

You drink wine.

You make excuses.

You tell everyone you are taking a break.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter.

But it’s driving you crazy.

It feels like you’re missing an arm.

Your days have no structure.

Everything looks gray.

You feel depressed.

You miss the sound of the pen scratching across the paper.

You long for your fingers to race across the keyboard.

You despair…

then one day,

a teeny, tiny thought begins.

You cradle it carefully,

holding it close,

tentatively adding one thought,

then another,

until the pen begins to fly and you can’t keep up with your racing thoughts.

Your hand cramps and your neck is stiff.

You push back your chair,

rub your eyes,

sigh deeply,

and smile to yourself.

Muse has returned.

©annettealaine 2015

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