Before a post is written

Staring at the blank page in front of me, I hear the hum of the laptop as it sits on my lap. My eyes begin to blur and my daze begins to thicken. My fingertips itch to write something – anything – but they stay locked in the stiff position they were in when I first started to lose myself. I can see a thousand words fall and trip upon each other as I unknowingly think about emotions I know I’m feeling inside. My vocabulary tries to bring a collage of words together, hoping that a sudden word will become bold and send me back into the waking world.

Time silently ticks by as the digital clock counts down.

The page seems to scream at me, mocking me for not being clever enough to taint it with my emotions. I can feel my flexed arms slacken and I can feel the creaking of my bones as they slowly melt from posed to lifeless – yet, the fingers still remain stiff and ready.

I can see the words behind my eyes, but they merge to resemble a jumble of letters. Not one word bolding up out of the mix to encourage me, but rather letters state themselves freely and my mind begins to drift completely.

My breathing soothes me and I only realize this as I begin to feel the trance state of my body kicking into play mode. The rocking from my heart allows me to feel like a baby in a cradle, but instead of Mother looking after me, I have memories as a comfort. My breathing kicks in and once the realization hits home I’m still here – still staring at this blank page in front of me – do I begin to slacken, to swallow, to wake.

The words fade into a puddle of black ink and there’s nothing left to jog my mind of what it is I want to put on paper. Instead, my obedient fingers have waited long enough and without warning, they take on a life of their own.

They begin to type.

And this is what they’ve typed.

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