Friday, 28 August 2015


Scenario 1 –
You’re feeling creative, so naturally you take your place at your desk, laptop at the ready with a fresh word document open. The curser blinks warily at you, waiting for a sudden jolt of energy to push it along the line you are about to write. But nothing happens. The curser blinks patiently; you tap your finger on the desk, impatiently. Nothing happens; your ideas never existed in the first place, what made you think you could create them now?

Scenario 2 –
You have an idea. In fact, you have many. You run up the stairs two at a time, sit down at your squeaking chair. Your laptop flies open and a new word document is opened. The curser blinks. You look down at your hands, your fingertips are moving slightly with anticipation. But nothing happens. After a while, you look at your word document. You have half a sentence and an emotion. Everything’s gone. The curser blinks, still.

Scenario 3 –
The curser blinks, watching you. It has done for almost three hours now. But you don’t notice, for your eyes have blurred and the pixels on your laptop screen have started to merge and suddenly your consciousness kicks itself and you become aware, again, of the words you still haven’t yet written. The curser blinks. Again.
In one of these scenarios, possibly, on a rare occasion, something different might occur. You might start typing, your long fingers subconsciously moving across the keyboard, forming words you haven’t yet processed in your mind. They work ahead of you, with your mind trying to catch up. Words are typed to create sentences. And then those whole sentences bunch together to create paragraphs. The gears of your mind whirring, your fingers rapidly moving, black pixels being splashed across the once lifeless page; creating. Spilling ink across the page, creating a mark that stains the page with meaning. You take a breath and pause. And you read over what you have written, secretly hoping, pleading, that your words were not just your breath of thought, hoping that your words breathe meaning, allow the reader to disappear from their physical existence for a short while. The curser blinks while you read. Finally, you’ve turned blood into ink.

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