You close the door, sit in a chair and open your laptop.
There is silence in the room, or maybe there is background music – a tune that you routinely listen to.
You procrastinate. Scrolling through Facebook, reading the news, watching YouTube videos.
Then you get to work. Your document page comes up and the cursor begins to blink. You stare at the screen. You blink once for every three times the cursor does. Silence fills the room, or background music does.
You look around your room. At the mess your bed is in from the moment you woke up… seven hours ago. At the pile of books you should probably either return or start reading. At the papers that clutter the rest of your table. The post-its with illegible notes.
You are alone.
Even your muse is not in today.
If your background music is on, it has probably ended so you change the soundtrack.
Then you go back to staring at the cursor.
There’s dirt between the keys on your laptop, so you clean it out. You probably should use a cloth. And there are chores to do as well. You need to sleep soon. There is school or work tomorrow. Homework maybe. But you want to write this story.
You lean on one elbow.
You go lie down on the bed.
You fold your blanket.
You take a teddy bear and prop it up next to your laptop. You tell it to speak. It stares black plastic eyes back at you, almost taunting. It says, “You can’t do this.”
Then you close your eyes and place your hands on the keyboard.
You get a notification on Whatsapp. It’s from your friend. You lean back in your chair and start typing a message to him or her. He or she replies. So you have a conversation with them for a while.
Maybe you’ll get inspiration.
You don’t. The two of you have a good talk. Then he or she has to go and do their business. You tell them you are writing your story so they leave you alone. You close Whatsapp and tell yourself to get to work.
The silence becomes too loud. If you had music on, it probably stopped.
You’re on your own.
With a sigh, you type the first word that comes to your mind.
Then the words flow. Sometimes, they stop. You repeat the process. Standing up, walking around the room. Flipping open a book. Read a piece of paper that has been on your desk for five years. You look out the window at the dark sky.
You get back to writing.
Until you start yawning.
Your character starts looking fuzzy in your head. You cannot imagine him anymore. So you save the document. Then you watch another random YouTube video. Reply a few more Whatsapp messages.
Total writing time: 30 minutes.
You decide to watch a movie.
You close the document. And decide that you have done enough writing for one day. Or maybe the whole week.
It’s okay, you say, since it is just a story you are writing for yourself.