Writing

Emma and Loki

And I am feeling lost. Staring at my computer. The words have left, taken their ball and gone home. And here I sit and stare. This is nothing new. All writers know this. And I feel the push, the drive to create something brilliant and insecurity that simmers under the surface saying, “it will be crap.” And so I sit and stare. Lost in my circle. Create. I can’t. I have to. It’ll suck. Time slowly ticking. And I sit and stare. All the characters that I danced with yesterday, even during breakfast, have moved on with their day, gone to their jobs, met their lovers at seedy hotels, boarded airplanes for paradise. And I sit and stare. Tick tock goes the clock. Eyes fade and the screen is a blur of white like staring into the sun. Trying to fight time, like a boxer trying to get the last punch in before the bell. Trying to find inspiration, like an artist sees the world. I look over my outlines. Over my ideas. My list of projects. And nothing comes. Time has stopped like watching the clock on the last of day of school before summer vacation. Eternity has set in. My mind wanders like a leaf in the wind. My creative gone and forgotten like a prisoner on death row.  So, I sit and stare. Force myself to wait. To be patient. Like a child waiting for mailman. Like a dog waiting for dinner. Like people waiting for the bus. I know it will come. I just have to wait. Patiently.

Been in a fog

I have wanted to write

Longed to write

So many ideas flowing

and then, I sit down and nothing

feverishly I reach for my notes

and nothing

go to the writing books

nothing

inspiration lost

gone

and fog sets in

I sit and wait

sit and try

and the words feel forced

feel contrived and inauthentic

My head swimming in a fog

No end in sight

I set deadlines

They go unmet

I know what I want to write about

And yet I cannot seem to find….

I am blind

I am lost

I am tired

And I long to create

To write

My characters cry to me

Visit my dreams

Talk to me

And yet when I sit to write

They are lost in the fog

So I set intentions

And they go unanswered

I have given up trying to force the words

The fog will lift

And when it does

I will be waiting

Sitting at my computer

And the words

The people

The places

Will find me

And I will write my story

It’s in there

It is the seed

Waiting to grow

Waiting for the spring

Waiting for the sun

So I wait

Any day now the fog will lift

I can see the sun peeking through