Overkill

Every now and then, I'm moved by a stroke of pseudo-genius: a wave of inspiration overwhelms me, launching me into a fervor of creativity and expression... and, of course, sleepless nights, where my mind is feverishly consumed by a mission that it has set itself out to do. I cannot eat, sleep, or even breathe without being taunted by my obsession with this inspiration... I can only let it consume me and willingly become its machine.

And so I sit here, in a zombie-like insomnia during another night in a row of few (slowly growing to many), searching for pieces to a puzzle that I see in my mind, attempting to fulfill that which I feel compelled to do...

I only hope I finish it soon. I hate unfinished projects. They haunt me during awkward silences.