inspiration: slippery as a fish

sitting around at home, it is a trial to arrive at inspiration. there is something about a place called "home" that effectively neutralizes all creativity from the atmosphere, as a lit flame leaches oxygen from the air. try as i might, whatever perfect image i have cultivated in my mind, the means is untraceable as long as i sit at my desk. this is why i venture outside often, for the frustration that pervades my home-induced tranquility propels me away from this inspiration vacuum within in hopes that a stimulus can be found without.

and when on a search for a stimulus, my personality often changes. i become more like a curious animal flitting my eyes from human to human, comfortable with being perplexed at their behavior -- even enjoying this sense of welcomed confusion, as it strikes a strong discord with the previous pervading inertia of my room. i usually wear my headphones and mouth along to the music, pushing myself into a private world. in this world, i am as a small fish wriggling through a towering mountain of coral, each crevice bubbling with the whispers of some hidden creature, beaming with color and too occupied with the dance of life to notice me. and the end effect, once i finally am forced to encounter someone and address them, is of unspeakable bashfulness and a nearly magnetic repulsion of eye contact.