My mind is quiet. The quiet before the storm. The still of the city at dawn before the hustle and bustle.
My mind needs to think. It needs to race and whir with life. Images fly across my eyes. A projection of fantasies shields my vision from the gray world in front of me. Thoughts race, my brain tumbling in concepts, struggling to keep up.
A sip of tea. A glance at the dark window. My ears absorb the music. My heart beats to the rhythm. Emotions dance within me.
My mind is racing. Thoughts are tumbling, soaring, screaming, filling my head with an internal, intellectual battle. My body is stationary, but my mind is flying. The empty cavity within my skull fills with butterflies of thoughts, and they push against the edges of my brain.
Thoughts aren’t being said in my head fast enough. Inspiration must come faster.
My mind is speeding faster and faster. The whirs and clicks of ideas are threatening to overwhelm my brain.
My eyes avert to the ceiling for a brief second. Two words dance in front of my vision. What if?…
The storm of gray thoughts slow down. My mind gently floats back down into my skull. A single light illuminates my skull. The storm is gone. The quiet is here.
An idea. The concept. It overwhelms my mind with excitement. Chills dance on my skin. Something warm burns within my chest. My eyes widen with realization. My lungs inhale; the air cooling my burning insides.
The idea sings, filling my mind with a chorus. The music in my ears is louder. It pulses with the beating of the idea. My mind is dancing. My thoughts are whirring, following my idea.
The concept floats in my once-empty mind, illuminating the cavity of my skull. My mind is glowing. Why can’t anyone see it shine?
A grin runs across my lips. My chest swells with excitement. The idea. My brain can’t think of anything else. It sounds perfect. Images fly across my eyes.
It is perfect. Why hasn’t anyone else thought of it? It is beautiful. People must know.
The idea overwhelms my brain. Excitement is coursing through me. My ears can only hear the concept being sung. My eyes are dancing in their sockets. Everywhere they look, they see the brightness. They see the dancing colors. The idea is bursting, blooming everywhere.
My whole body can feel the thoughts moving through me, my body urging me to dance to the pulsing concept.
The idea is alive. It is breathing on the back of my neck, sending chills down my spine. It is squirming in my ears, singing. It is filling my vision with its overwhelming brightness.
The concept must be let free from the confines of my dark skull. It must chiseled, perfected, made whole and concrete. It must have form. While it may just be several gray words floating in my head, it is perfect. It will captivate everyone it comes in contact with.
The idea must be sent everywhere. It will whisper in the ears of whoever comes in its path. It will shine a new shade of color on the boring, gray streets everyone hustles on. Everyone will stop and stare. Everyone will gaze in awe. They will all say in unison, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I will watch and smile. The embers of the burning concept will continue to warm my chest. I thought of the idea. I lit the match. I set my thoughts ablaze.
This idea must be told. Its brilliant light must fill the minds of everyone I meet. Its singing will dance in the ears of every passerby.
I will always go back to the idea and gaze at it in the deep crevices of my mind. I can still feel it pulsing through me. Even if my telling of the idea won’t be perfect, the spark of creativity still burns within me.