Writer's Block

Sitting here watching a flashing cursor: my new heart beat. Patiently wondering what will all this writing stuff do in the end. There are many possibilities for these words. With the right subject matter, these words could heal, entertain, or simply take someone away from their "right now". These words are the slow turn of the faucet allowing me to water the Earth with re-edited gibberish and ether-like essence. These words are my seeds blown into the wind. These words complete and begin my life's breathing process. I have taken the world in..now I give it back. 

Like a hunter, I wait for the profound thought. It knows that I am waiting and stands just outside of my gaze. I pass the time checking vocabulary and sharpening my wit. I am now in search of my white whale. But unlike the novel, I am not to be obsessed. My thoughts will be a calm and steady breeze for my words.

And while I wait for my prize, my mind wonders and the controversial and risqué take the stage. It's something like a minstrel show. They smear my canvass with rogue and flip the back of their dress to the crowd. I am an audience of one. Racism bounces about the stage elbowing and chasing the spotlight that splashes the cast with cruelty and selfishness. Sex is near the rear curtains. I can't clearly see, but no good is the prognosis. Tiny hypocrites scream with terror and run for their lives as racism stomps down on the stage with heavy feet. Each of the tiny ones have names and I laugh because they have created the monster they now run from. The only thing that's missing is black face. 

My white whale appears and revelry is replaced with the steady hum of the refrigerator. Nothing is moving except for me and my prey. As I move in closer my fingers prepare the snare. The trap is set off and the chase begins. I will write until I tire out thought. It will be an arduous battle. I set sail. I am a crew of one.