Some days, I simply cannot churn out any writing.
I stay on my bed in my dimly lit room and just look at my computer quietly.
Or I will turn my head and start studying the different objects that form my room.
Wondering if this room will feel different when something gets moved or thrown out. If I had a study table instead of a vacant single bed in front of the door. If I moved the huge cupboard to the side of my bed instead leaving it at the foot. If I had secret compartments under my bed so I can hide stuff. If I had the room all to myself.
I turn back to my computer and switch some music on.
Usually I prefer indie movie soundtracks during these moments.
And just listen.
Allowing my mind to take me back to the stories, the conversations and the words. Trying to change my original perspectives and start questioning things all over again. Questions and answers. Questions and answers. Questions left unanswered.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
And just like that, maybe an hour or two have past with me living in my head and thinking various things at once and not getting any writing done.
I will try again tomorrow.