Waiting

An Essay By Tamerah // 12/3/2007

I sit here in front of the keyboard, fingers poised and ready. Its time to write something. It doesn't matter what, but it has to be something. Something worth it. It seems like it would be so easy, I have all the letters before me, all I have to do is somehow put them together into words, words that flow and make sense, words that say something. A few minutes go by. Still my fingers are ready, anxious to begin. What will I write this time? What words will I choose, what story will I have them tell? Time slips by slowly, like sand through an hour glass. Nothing comes. I have the entire alphabet at my fingertips, ready to be put to use, to be formed into words and molded into sentences. But nothing comes. I stretch my fingers and shake my hands in frustration, as if the problem must lie somewhere with them. I glance at the clock. It feels like an eternity has gone by, but I have only sat here for five minutes. I tap randomly on the keys, hoping that what I want to say will appear on the computer screen, but all I get is a bunch of jumbled, meaningless letters. I look about my desk and start tidying up the assortment of junk that has been collected there over the week. I'm getting distracted now, and I know it. Shaking off the heavy feeling of failure that is dragging on my limbs, I position my hands over the keyboard once more. I stare at the computer screen and it stares back, unfeeling and impersonal. I look away but my gaze is always brought back to the same blank page. I close my eyes to block out the harsh light. Words pass fleeting behind the lids, I get just a glimpse before I open my eyes and then they are gone. Frustrated, I turn off the computer screen and walk away. But in time I come back. The idea is eating away at me that there is still some page out there that has to be filled with my words. So I can never leave for long. I always come back. I have determined now to sit here for as long as I have to, until words find there way to my fingertips and onto that blank page. I may sit here forever waiting for inspiration.

Comments

Good job! You caught the

Good job! You caught the feeling of anticipation and frustration perfectly!

Heather | Mon, 12/03/2007

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And now our hearts will beat in time/You say I am yours and you are mine...
Michelle Tumes, "There Goes My Love"

yeah

Yeah, good job. I was like that yeserday, couldn't think of one dang thing to write. :D

Sarah | Mon, 12/03/2007

"Sometimes even to live is courage."
-Seneca

Blogging away!
busyscribbler.wordpress.com

I feel the same way

I feel the same way sometimes.

Emily-Smileygirl (not verified) | Tue, 12/04/2007

Perfect

This is my writing experience - no matter what I write, it almost always begins this way. Wonderful description! :)

Jenny | Wed, 12/05/2007

I know exactly what you

I know exactly what you mean!
I could never put it in words like you did though!

Anonymous | Tue, 12/18/2007

Yes

I agree, wonderful discription!

Anonymous | Wed, 12/19/2007

...

WOW. I am amazed at all of you people here and your writing skills. I always thought that I was fairly talented when it came to that sort of stuff...I guess I was wrong because compaired you my stuff looks like junk.

Megan | Mon, 12/24/2007

-----------------
|Live,Laugh,Love|

I know how you feel

I feel completely inadequate compared to some of the people on here.

Tamerah | Mon, 12/24/2007

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