243 words • 1~2 min read

Ever-Evasive Inspiration

It’s been a long time since I’ve been caught up in the act of writing — long enough that I forgot what that exact moment feels like when the idea starts to form in your head, the image perfect, the scene so absolutely there if you can just touch it

Honestly, it’d been long enough since I’d felt so perfectly inspired that I was wondering if it was ever going to happen again — maybe I’d lost it, spent too much time ignoring my writing after all.

It gives me the chills, goosebumps all over, and makes me twitchy — I have to keep moving, keep active, as if I’m moving the thing slowly from the back of my mind to the forefront by sheer motion alone.  It’s also almost random.  In this case, I had the idea during one song on my playlist.  I jotted down the line, and came back to it when I  was done working.

Another song came on, and there it was — the exact tempo of the movement, of the action, the perfect mood — I just had to make it all come together with words.

And fuck, words are the easy part at that point.