Here we are.
Just the two of us.
Alone at last.
I know you've been gazing in my direction more often than you want to admit. I know the idea is startling, but you can't seem to shake it just the same. It's like driving by a gruesome accident that you don't want to see, but you can't help slowing down and looking for the details. It's beyond your control. I know it is; you know it is. It's in your head, like a song you can't shake, like a rhyming verse you can't rid your mind of.
Like an addiction. Like a monkey on your back.
* * *
A girl can dream, non?
* * *
I tried to go to sleep last night, but my mind was spinning. I couldn't write anything I knew I'd be proud of an hour later. I was restless, unable to sit or stand or lie down. I ended up getting caught up in this movie, Get Real, on Showcase. It's a British flick about a gay 16-year old. Lovely, actually. If you can get your hands on it, I recommend a viewing.
Then I went online for awhile, surfing aimlessly. Fatigue, and the inability to write was making me sad, but I couldn't stand the idea of being in bed. It was only through sheer mental force that I finally closed my eyes sometime around three, and a few hours later, it came to me. A new idea, a new story, all inspired by a turn a phrase I'd heard earlier in the day.
So now my creative juices are flowing, and I can't wait to be out of the office, so I can devote my thoughts and my hands and all of my senses to this brilliant, BRILLIANT tale that's forming in my head.
Thank God. Woe can be tiresome.
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