The head is murky, as I try to delve deeper to find something -anything.
Fishing around aimlessly, coming up empty.
Staring blankly at the luminous page in front of me
Slowly blinding me, as the time ticks on and the page stays empty.
The biting of the lips as I impatiently death-stare my brain, cursing at its laziness, its lack of ability.
The plea for some thought to collide with my head, so I can start scribbling down nonsense in a complete air of giddiness.
Instead, the page becomes whiter as my head becomes emptier.
The neurotic pen-clicking and faint buzzing from inside becomes my companion as I start to pace back and forth across the room,
Staring at my lifeless hands
Where there were once sparks.
Waiting for that sudden burst of madness where pages fill with lines and marks of the complete idiosyncrasies of a child’s brain.