I sit on my bed thinking about a subject to write, way past bed-time,
no light, just me and my brain. "Spiral" A sudden flash of insparation.
"A spiral, what do I know about spirals." I started browsing my mind
definate to produce the best story ever written about those things.
"Spirals, well, they're veey swirly, oh and neverending, always going
down and down and down..." I write down the first words: "Down Down,
Down we go a neverending story about sadness and pain". "Yes" I tought,
"lets involve those things called emotions in it, thats always nice." I
continued writing about the spiral using the sudden shards of
inspiration coming up in my mind. "Sadness and pain, once those start
it'll always get worse, for you're trapped inside a spiral." I tought I
was writing well, I could be in time, I could make it... Till...
Everithing went quiet, my brain stopped thinking and the flow of awesome
inspiration stopped, my empty mind couldn't find the strenght to write
another word. "Spirals, why did I start writing about spirals" I
wondered, I would never make it in time, I trew my story into the trash
can and went to sleep, knowing the time to write, the time to enter, was