Static

It feels like all my friends are busy making something of themselves, climbing to higher feats. While I'm just lying here at the base of my mountain, feeling more tired than I've ever feared.

I'm static and waiting for a zap of reality, only to tap out the second I start climbing and lose my breath.

I wait for inspiration to overwhelm me just as I've always done in the face of grappling for innovation, ingenuity, and imagination.

But in the end, I find myself intimidated by the disregard, discouragement, and dismay that fills my mind.

This enemy that is my mind works to keep me paralyzed with this awful indecision.