Murder

I think I killed my muse. You have no idea how many times I’ve come to this page and stared at the screen… and nothing flowed through. I think it’s got to be a combination of Time Warner’s suckass service; thought-overload (close cousin to information-constipation) and not knowing where to begin. My baby has asked me a million times “What’s Wrong” or “What’s on your mind?” I go to answer and about 40 thoughts take over my motor skills and sieze my mouth in motion. When I finally make sense of any of it… it’s too much to talk about. And I just say, “Nothing.” because it’s just too much.

My muse normally comes along and organizes it for me and helps to ease out each thought so that it makes sense. But nothing. I think I may have accidentally killed him *sigh*.

That’s gonna be a tough one to replace.

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