Sitting here in front of my prehistoric computer I stare into my screen at the white "page" before me. The space where I will be typing flashing before me as if urging to give its world life. I sit back for a moment, staring off into the darkness beyond the screen. My hands find their way to my face to rub the clutter from my mind. "Am I really this thoughtless?" I think to myself. With my eyes closed I recall a time when I wrote every day. Beautifully descriptive, captivating things. I had created my own world even, it was a living breathing extension of myself to me. A sigh escapes my lips as I open my now adjusted eyes, the darkness beyond the screen is now a dimly lit, cream colored wall.