Write. Write. Write. Write.
Maybe if I write enough, the Muse will come back. Brain clogged. Maybe Muse is on drugs.
Muse: Hey, man. You should write about, like, um, yeah. That’d be awesome.
Me: What? What does that even mean? You told me you were off the drugs!
Muse: Um, no, fer sureous, though, I think we got something, like…
Me: Do you even know where you are right now?
Muse: This is it, like, best seller, um thingie…shiney…
Me: You know what? I’m just going to binge on ice cream. You let me know when you want to take this seriously.
Muse: Chocolate, please!