The Waiting Room

I’m sitting in this chair waiting for a session with my muse.
She has been out of comission for a little bit now…
Something to do with a vacation or retreat.
All she left me was a barely comprehensible note scrawled with a.

“love you darling. i’ll be back before you know it!!
party it up while i’m gone ♥ ♥ ♥”

What kinda muse writes hearts at the end of her notes?
We are def not in elementary school here.

The Waiting Room is kind of nice though.
There’s tons of familiar faces, I guess my muse is a pretty popular gal.
I’m not jealous that I have to share her.
She seems to have done spectatular work in all of us.
No bias.
She sure knows our strengths and weaknesses…we’re going to end up at the same destination anyways.
It’s just a matter of how each of us get there.

Whoever picked this music needs help
With the amount of musicians in this room there needs to be a live now corner, seriously.
Someone needs to hop on it.
I can’t take 40s .. it’s not even 2013 top 40s. It’s a “worst top 40s that ever existed”.

Hey! There’s another friend.
Crazy that we’re all here.

Seeing all the faces makes me feel a bit better.
I can’t “party it up” without m7 muse here.
Half the time I’m not sure what to do…
I’m not painting or inspired to write or draw or speak.
It’s all a blur of not being able to pinpoint how I feel.

Gosh I really hate those questions.
Can I just tell stories about what ifs & dreams & longings?
I hate not having right answers or even normal words to tell people.

This Waiting Room is the absolute worst place to be,
but it’s a necessary evil (?).
Is evil even the right word? It seems awful strong.
I’m here.
Nowhere else to go for awhile,
so I guess I’m going make the most out of it.


2 thoughts on “The Waiting Room

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