June 28, 12:38pm, The State Of The Writer, indeed

On some other plane of reality, sitting in the shade on the front porch in my pajamas, smoking a cigarette, feeling the June breeze and occasional gust of wind, I pick up my phone and open a new screen. Then I click the button to lock the phone. A black and useless screen flashes before me as I slide the phone between the side of the chair and me. Nestled, waiting, whispering…write. I pick up the phone and unlock it. Feel the breeze. Lock it back and put it down. Sit quietly awhile and be. 

The urge is stronger than my will. I pick up the phone again and open a new screen.

But nothing comes.

.

I used to be able to enjoy these quiet moments. But my mind is fixated. My insides stir, restlessly.

Write.

…but nothing.

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