Sometimes there is something lurking that you don’t want to write.
You push it aside and try to focus on other things, but it just starts screaming at you like a hungry kid that smells brownies.
You wake up and it’s sitting at the foot of the bed, drinking your coffee. It nags at you when you look in the mirror as you wash your hands. It has all the time in the world to wait, so it just lingers in the corner of your eye.
Maybe you’ll get drunk and it can sneak its way out on a stray piece of paper. It’s possible it could skip past you while you are working and find a home in a picture you doodled.
It lives. It whispers. It whimpers. It wields power that you didn’t even give it.
It will probably win.