Sellophane

You realize one day, that you can't write anymore. Of course, you can write. Your fingers will still pitter patter over the obedient keyboard. Letters in a pre selected font will still form themselves on the cold screen in front of you. But you can't write.

Words no longer bubble up from the depths of your mind. Thoughts no longer form sentences. Everything that you write is weirdly symmetrical and somehow dead.

You realize that you have lost your muse. You have lost the ability to write, because when you wrote you performed for an audience. A very specific audience, and now that those canine fangs no longer flash. You can't write because you don't want to.

The words are dead. As is the heart. Symmetry and Order tries to take over your beautiful world of spontaneous combustion.

Teeter Totter. Wag-an-Otter.