Of Inspiration.

I looked for inspiration in all corners, hoping something would strike the melancholic chords within. The desperation for just a blur of words became a growing obsession, much detrimental than I supposed. And one random morning, when the seeker in me decided to give up, did inspiration flood in. Little did I realize it came from my own work. The former glory that defined me, put me back in that fire. I felt it right in the pit of my belly. I knew it was back for good. Stronger and more powerful. The words just flowed and flowed. It felt like an endless river of thoughts just waiting to be heard.

They spoke of undying love and passion. Of dreams unconquered. Of hopes so strong. Of lives so beautiful. Of relations so perfect. It was the golden epiphany I always hoped for. The fear of losing it also went away, just as if a wisp of wind had taken away all my troubles. My world was whole again. The empty ink bottle and blotting paper lay no more silent. Those ugly noises left. I felt renewed, rejuvenated...and just so complete.