Broken Gears

I set myself down, ready to write.

The gears in my mind spinning so fast you can barely see them -

Mind ablaze with colourful chaos; a plethora of stories and characters, emotions and expression, waiting to burst out - to fill the world with its beauty.

I rest my fingers on the keys, set my sights on the empty page, and…

Nothing.

A fog fills my mind, forcing the gears to halt, gears grinding and shuddering and shrieking in the process, it happens so fast.

I try to push through it, determination filling me. I grasp onto the found inspiration through the thickening fog, struggling to keep hold.

Inspiration caught, I try to get this inspiration out onto the page while I could, before it slipped away.

However, I find myself coming across a new problem, when I send the command to my fingers to type, and-

Nothing happens.

I feel like I’m buffering. The inspiration slips out of my hands, and I let out a yell of frustration.

I reach back through the fog, but it has grown thicker and stronger since my last attempt, and I could not get ahold of it, though I could feel it – almost like a taunt, now.

I turn my attention to the broken gears and set to work trying to fix it with what tools I had available. Desperately trying to get it working once more. To no longer be trapped inside my own body and mind, yet...

Nothing.

The frustration builds inside, and I try in vain to try and escape once more. To reason with my body.

Meanwhile, the fog has begun to settle, so that even though I could not see or reach my ideas, I could hear them. Feel them.

Soon, every idea, every thought I was having, every emotion, were screaming over the top of each other, trying as desperately as I was to be freed.

I cry and beg, overwhelmed and desperate to let these feelings, these stories and characters out onto the page, to let me out of this cage. I try again to reason with it, convince the gears to work.

Yet the page stays empty, gears unmoving.

I scream and thrash, crying and raging, pent up emotions with nowhere to go. The cacophony of sound grows louder, ignored characters wanting to be heard, their stories finally told.

The pressure inside builds…

Frustration-

Why can’t I get these gears moving? Why is this fog so thick? What is wrong with me that I cannot clear this fog, or get these gears moving? I want nothing more than to be able to create these ideas in my mind, express how I am feeling? Yet no matter how hard I try, these gears just don’t seem to move!

Heartbreak-

The longer this fog stays, and my gears stay unmoving, the more my heart breaks. Getting to tell these stories and get to become so ensconced in such wonderful worlds, it makes my very soul want to sing with joy. I am merely a witness to these worlds and characters, and it is such a joy and an honour to get to explore them. Not being able to do makes me feel like I’m missing a part of myself.

Silence.

I sit down, letting the fog engulf me, filling me so that now I can no longer hear the agonized and frenzied cries of my own mind. I watch from afar as my body moves ever so slightly.

My hand moves slowly, cursor hovering over the ‘X’ marks the spot.

Do you want to save?

Why would I save an empty page?

No.

I click.

The screen closes.

The fog inside remains, keeping all else separated from me – trapped.

Yet – a shriek and a screech is heard, followed by the loud sounds of gears grinding together as they slowly began to work at this new speed –

The pace of broken gears.