The blinking cursor mocks me. It's quite infuriating, actually. I alternate glances between my Word doc and the Odyssey homepage, searching for magic guidance that will awaken some amazing idea within my head. The blank Word document reflects my thoughts like a mirror, the cursor winking accusingly as if to say, "Ha, you fool! You think that you can come up with anything at all?"
I stare at the screen, my eyes glazing over as I become hypnotized by the intermittent action. My eyelids begin to sink down like lead weights; I start and shake my head to clear the haze.
My fingers tentatively approach the keys, fumbling with a semblance of a thought. T--H--E. Nope, nope, that won't do at all. Backspace. A--N. No, that sounds too elementary. Backspace. W--H--E--N. Where am I even going with this? Backspace.
I can't think, so I push my chair back with a screech and pad over to my fridge silently. I crack open the fridge and a thin streak of blinding light assails my eyes. Grabbing a can of Arizona Green Tea, I return to my seat and take a long swig, hoping that the cool drink will revitalize my senses and stimulate my brain.
No dice. Although I feel less liable to fall asleep sprawled over my keyboard, cobwebs still cover the inspiration for my piece. Never would I have thought that too much freedom would pose such an issue. It seems counterintuitive; I should have no problems coming up with an idea since there are no restrictions. But it's almost as if my mind is overwhelmed with the limitless possibilities that it simply becomes numb and inactive.
Maybe you just need a break, a little voice advises. I decide to heed the advice, opening up YouTube. It's funny how the Internet is full of endless possibilities as well, but I have no problem finding something to waste time.
After I watch yet another cat video, I sneak a glance at the clock. It's midnight already? With a sigh, I exit out of the window and return to the desolate document and our staring contest. I have to write something, anything. Just choose a topic and stick with it! I grasp my head with my hands as if trying to physically wrest an idea from the shady confines. Some time passes.
And more time.
And even more time.
And even more time.
All of a sudden, it comes to me surrounded by a golden halo of light, as if sent by God himself. I embrace the ember of a thought with open arms and let it set ablaze my mind and fingers. The battle has been won, the blank page covered with the spoils of war: words.
