BUSTED

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES

Today is no different than yesterday. I opened my laptop again, hoping the thoughts would find shape. Instead, I sat still, watching the cursor blink and waiting for something to settle in my mind. The words feel just out of reach as if they are somewhere behind the noise of daily life.

Earlier today, a rock busted out my driver’s side headlight. It was sudden and frustrating, the kind of moment that reminds you how fragile everything is. I was not expecting it. I was thinking about what I needed to do next. Then, it happened, and suddenly, I had to rearrange everything to deal with one more thing.

It feels like that sometimes. Life keeps piling up: little problems, little disruptions, all pulling your energy and attention away from whatever quiet space you tried to make for yourself. It becomes harder to write when your mind is full of repair reminders and responsibilities.

But I have learned to let the words come when they are ready. These quiet seasons are not a waste. They are not empty. They are teaching me to slow down, to look around, and to live in the present, even when it is imperfect and off-schedule.

So, I will keep sitting in silence. I will keep returning to the page. And when the words decide to return, I will be here, ready to welcome them back.

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