There’s that moment when you feel that thing creeping up at the back of your mind, at the surface of your heart and the tip of your tongue. That urge that beautiful flow of words you know you can write down. You have been staring at blank pages and empty screen for days. Nothing to write nothing to type yet the mind and heart are full with stories and emotions. But it just doesn’t flow. The time ain’t right. The feeling isn’t exact
You sit there, in your empty room, that lone wolf you always were. Talking only in jokes and laughter. Why? Because you don’t know how to talk. And the friends you once had..don’t feel right anymore. The only channel you had was through writing but that is blocked by some strange barrier. Is is too much happiness? Is it too much sadness? Is it that pain in the arm that has been killing you for three days and nearly made you break down in class? Is it because talking suddenly has become the hardest thing in the world..?
So you look at your computer, sighing because the old companion has got old and is getting chipped off in places. An guilty feeling in the heart that it might just be time to let it go. You shut it down, lock you room, go into some other room, try relaxing with a bunch of friends, with that odd feeling that is bugging you deep down.You hang out for a while but then the jokes run out, the energy runs out, it’s too late in the night already and then there’s college tomorrow. You walk back the corridors, up the stairs. Unlock your room and get into bed. Shutting your eyes or opening them does’t matter much, it’s too dark to make out the walls