  It’s still quite early, and I’ve run out of ideas. The screen of the laptop glows sadistically in my face, the few lines of type mocking me and my inability to find inspiration. They call it burning the midnight oil, staying up late to study that is. Though it’s still early, I can’t really say that it’s exactly oil that I’m burning. I lay back and cross my arms behind my head, watching the shadows on the walls. They dance across the room, flirting and playing with the dim light. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, letting the weigh on my shoulders to let go. It suffocates the part of my brain that’s screaming about the tests I have this week and the mugging that has to be done. About all those meaningless chores that always weigh so heavily on my mind. I want to escape from it all, and go somewhere where I can be alone with my creativity (or insanity), where I can just read and read until I die. I’m sick of the endless deadlines, twisting my words into something foreign and strange that even I can’t recognize. But there are no one telling me what to do or think. There’s no one here but my laptop, and me. For this small tiny bit moment in time, I am free. I open my eyes, and sit back up. The laptop screen greets me again with its sardonic grin, challenging me to conquer the challenging questions at the page in front of me. Smiling, I crack my knuckles and begin. Labels: burning the midnight oil |
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