....

I tried tapping at the keys of this plastic wonder. Futile efforts fading away to hopelessness. My mind is not blank. But it is saturated by thoughts fleeting and going, fleeting and going. Nothing lingers. Nothing chooses to remain. Not even a limerick. Inspiration again, chose to knock on the door...not on mine...never on my door. The only consolation for a plebe like me is that smile that flits and floats like a cotton flower, wished upon but blown by the wind, never to be caught again. It's a draining week. A lot has happened. But the tempest has ceased. There are but the muddy puddles left by the rain which caused much distraught upon more than two people's hearts. I could feel myself being pulled towards getting up and making the first move. But pride is such a stubborn partner. It will never leave me. :(