When inspiration hits, let it rock. Let it roll. It seems to me that I am in a strange place since coming home. My life was turned up-side-down and then again and now I find myself back in New York after so long away…but not without a short interruption to Florida in which I questioned why I was leaving the place to come back to the cold barren New York. Home to my friends, my dad, and my cats. What could possibly come of endless hours keeping to myself with the TV turned on, my internet running overtime, and a good book in my hands. What happened to the inspiration and words and artistry that poured out of me so easily just a few months before? Where did that Amanda go?
I am still here. Hiding quietly beneath the shadow of myself waiting for the right moment to yell, “Get up! Stop being so lazy! The adjustment period is over!” When will that moment come? It’s hard to see beyond the laziness – the pure unadulterated pleasure and frustration of being able to lie on the couch with the television numbing my senses and my mind and with my book transporting me to a different era, a different world. I am procrastinating. Procrastinating what exactly? Well, life I suppose.
There are so many things I must do. I need to do. I feel the urge to do. And yet, I find all I am able to do is wake up, and sit. Waiting for the moment when an impulse is strong enough that I must respond. When I must move my body and start using my mind as more than just a sponge absorbing the nonsense around me.
When that moment comes, when words start to flow again, when I begin to sit and contemplate and wish and dream and inspiration flows freely, I will know it. I always do. I always take advantage…never letting a good moment go to waste. But I know that for now I am helpless to this overwhelming numbness that has taken over my body. That my inability to do anything takes precedence for the moment and that the minute it passes, I will be able to react again: to function, to perform, to create. But for now, I will wait patiently.