I sat trying to think of something to write. My deadline was rapidly aproaching, and I couldn't think of a single topic. My mind was completely blocked.
And then I had it. I would write about writing.
I write poems and short stories that never truly seem to be finished. I have so many things running through my head that I never write down and I lose them. I wish I could attach a computer to my head and save everything that runs through my head.


I miss the days that I could scream and noone would hear me. Now that every single person in this town has telekinesis, I have no secrets. Of course I'm the only one who can't hide her mind. And every little thing I want to write down can't be copyrighted because everyone gets ahold of my genius ideas and sells them before I have a chance to actually think it through. I'm no longer in control of my own thoughts. I hate this.