The Flashing Cursor
It’s 4 am. I cannot sleep. So I get up and stare at the flashing cursor.It blinks.
Waiting…
Waiting so patiently…
I have so much to say…
but for some reason, I cannot say it.
The cursor blinks some more, beckoning me forward, edging me on.
But I do not speak, I do not type…
I stare at the blinking cursor.
blinking…
blinking…
and I think of the projects I should be working on, the novels that I could be writing, the websites I could be building, the lives I could be changing….
and I think of the mistakes I have made in my life, the loves lost, the money not made, the missed opportunities, the pain and suffering I have endured, and the regrets, oh, the regrets.
It’s frustrating when you know you messed up, and you’re not sure where to go next.
And so the cursor blinks.
And I stare.
I stare at the endless possibilities of the flashing cursor.
It’s like staring into infinity.
And I think…
“What shall I create from these ashes? What will my legacy be?”
The cursor flashes at me as if to say “I do not know. I am but a blank slate to create on. The good, the bad, the serious, the funny, the normal, the weird, whatever you want to create. I am here, flashing for you.”
I sit quietly some more, in the dark, staring at the screen.
Staring at the cursor.
Lost in infinity.