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.