A cluttered mess of worthless thoughts
My brain is much like the atmosphere today - foggy
Ideas, thoughts, notions fluttering every which way
None particularly interesting
None particularly clear
Some may name this writer’s block
For me it’s just residue
Gunk that needs to be cleaned out
I want to follow none of these notions
For they are dead ends
Yet I feel there is no choice
Even now they distract me
Slowing my fingers from typing the words that attempt to flow from them Sometimes it’s because there are so many great thoughts
I need only to find clarity
Sometimes there are no great thoughts
Just distraction
My fingers do the workout
My mind gets the benefit
Type type type
Write write write
This is how I clean