Ooze

The wells of creativity slow to a trickle. What once gushed forth now takes effort to squeeze; the resulting dribble is the pus from a festering blister on the face of humanity. As a great man once said: "The spirit is willing but the flesh is unable." In my case the spirit's willingness is not matched by its ability. Perhaps just waiting for some time; let the muse strike when he will - dressed in his robes of pure-white tinged with the blood of the martyrs. He does not come when you call. Or perhaps he is just out of the office at the moment.