Being Human is Having Writers Block

Being human is having writers block.

When you want to write, your brain doesn't.

All those beautiful quotes you once read,

All those times something meaningful occurred in your life,

All the love, hate, pain, joy and every intensive feeling you've ever felt

Suddenly is locked away in a safe, fifty floors down from the creative team of your mind.

All processing units have shut down, the lights are out,

no one knows where the key is to this safe,

and all the while the boss is yelling at each employee

trying to find out which idiot

decided to lock up the only memories and beautiful inspirations

that make up what this body lives and works for.

Trying with every ounce of effort to scrounge up any words worth repeating,

any thought or picture with at least a fraction of sentiment.

Papers are flying,

all the neuro cell employee's are bouncing off of each other in a panicked frenzy,

hoping that the big boss doesn't decide they're worthless;

never to give them a job again.

The brain is a mess, and you feel it.

It hurts.

All because whatever you are trying to say is on FREAKING LOCK DOWN.

Being human is having writers block.

Because...

Well don't ask me. I'm having writers block.