Blink. Blink. Blink.
Sometimes looking at the blinking cursor on your screen feels akin to staring at a heart monitor screen.
Your entire life —the bane of your very existence— is dependent on that single, frail line. And unless that little line keeps moving forward, with its ups and downs, life as you knew it will soon be over.
The moment that white sheet of paper is devoid of thoughts, phrases, chapters…the moment all words cease from flowing…
Well. You are, for all accounts and purposes, dead.