I Am a Writer

I am a writer. Sometimes my mind just wants to write. And sometimes it just won't generate. Sometimes I lay awake at night staring at my dark ceiling telling myself, "I should sleep," but my mind still wanders. So many thoughts, words, broken phrases to put together. Hours passing, and yet the only change I see is the shifting in the shadows upon that same dark ceiling. Are they sleeping? Are they tossing and turning in their sleep because their minds too wander through their dreams? Or do they also lay awake, staring back at me, watching the shapes in my eyes swim as thoughts continue to dance behind their glassy facade? And in the dark, I begin to write blindly. My mind cannot rest until those racing thoughts are halted with ink on paper. And upon their settlement, I finally sleep.