Writer's Block

When thought is in order, my brain is not so. So many times, so many days, so many thoughts, too many to process or hold. But the days they are needed for purposeful function they are nowhere to be found. Out goofing off I suppose, leaving me to feel as an empty shell without the power to do anything outside the mundane routine of this boring daily life. Tumble weeds, crickets, loud HVAC and that ever present clearing of the throat to remind you that something should be filling this space. What is it? Where have you gone and why won't you come back? Oh sure I know the thought process will return but only after the deadline has passed. With my mouth I agreed knowing all along my ability would leave, there is no point for me to try, it's time to give up and go on by, I'll make yet another promise a different day and break it and someone's heart that way.... Why say 'yes' when 'no' was so easy now I'm stuck with pain and guilt and failure. Thought, creativity, brilliance and genius, perfection - the stuff of dreams.