My muse that is, or rather, the part of me that feels the urge to share whatever mundane thought happens to be trickling through my head at any given moment.
Some folks call it writer's block, but sense I don't really consider what I do here, "writing", the term hardly applies.
It's more of a "we're sorry, the number youa re trying to reach has been disconnected" message.
My stress level has been through the roof, my heart aches and I'm kinda pissy and bitter about this whole cancer situation at the moment.
One thing leads to another and BOOM! I find myself sitting in utter silence, terrified of turning that release valve even the slightest bit for fear of a flood that will knock me flat on my ass.
So instead of sharing, or even acknowledging the shit rampaging through my mind, I stare mindlessly at the computer scree, helping Farmer Fred stack little square animals on the game site, Pogo. Even Word Womp and Scrabble require entirely too much thought...how pathetic!
Of course, I can feel the waters banging against the flood gates, and am sure this drought will be followed by a deluge that will leave me scrambling for a life jacket!