As dryness prevails with no clouds in sights or those roaming the skies are bereft of moisture, I cannot fish for ideas in the erstwhile pool of imagination, for it is long sucked by the intensity of times. So, I decide to set out on a ramble towards nothingness, than waiting in futility for something non existent. I wander about in the vast expanse of the Writers Block when my eyes catch a glimpse of something shimmering, ‘Ah, thats it, move on lest it fades!’. And it fades the moment I reach there. In this wilderness I’ve found good allies in mirages; they play games with me. But like every other game this game has to end and I dont want to be a loser. I’ve already have my hands full of emptiness. I better make some rain that will fill the pools of my imagination where fish of different ideas will brood to give me a choice to catch ideas from.
P.S: ‘Fishing for ideas in a pool’ is something I heard from Cav