Post by vanessa on Mar 17, 2006 4:57:59 GMT
"I know I can't run the world, cos I can't even decide what to make for dinner. I know can't run the world, cos you tell me I suck and you're such a winner." No! Vanessa put the notebook down on her lap and closed her eyes, tilting her head upward. Something was missing. What was missing? It was so pathetic because she had been working on this song for three days and so far only had two lines of complete and utter rubbish. She was home for some unknownst reason, and so far the visit had deemed itself unproductive. She put her palms of her hands against her eyes, blocking out all light. OK, this was getting very old and annoying and frustrating. Vanessa couldn't remember when she had been so frustrated.
She let out a frustrated groan and opened her eyes to see a face a few inches from her, "Writers block?" The face asked. Vanessa blinked a couple of times and then slid down in her seat to move her head away from her father's. She rubbed her eyes and nodded tiredly. Truth was she had been having writers block all week long. It was very tiring. Maybe it was because she was writing a different style of song this time, who knew? She sure didn't. Vanessa closed her diary and slid it into the drawer of the table in front of her. She leaned her head on her hand and sighed, watching her dad sink into the armchair next to her, "What's wrong? Any ideas?" He asked casually as he turned on the television.
Vanessa shrugged in reply as her eyes watched the channels flick by, one by one. "Suppose I just am all sung out. I don't know. Maybe since school's been so hectic I have lost all my creative genius." She finally replied as he landed on a channel he thought interesting. Then two minutes later he would change the channel again, land on one he thought interesting, change that one, and continue the cycle. Her father couldn't stay interested in something for too long. It was just the way he was. He had always been that way. Something Vanessa had received from him was his attention span. But she had it under control more than he did. As he continued flipping through the channels again, Vanessa sighed; "Pick one, won't you Dad? Really. It's not that hard."
She let out a frustrated groan and opened her eyes to see a face a few inches from her, "Writers block?" The face asked. Vanessa blinked a couple of times and then slid down in her seat to move her head away from her father's. She rubbed her eyes and nodded tiredly. Truth was she had been having writers block all week long. It was very tiring. Maybe it was because she was writing a different style of song this time, who knew? She sure didn't. Vanessa closed her diary and slid it into the drawer of the table in front of her. She leaned her head on her hand and sighed, watching her dad sink into the armchair next to her, "What's wrong? Any ideas?" He asked casually as he turned on the television.
Vanessa shrugged in reply as her eyes watched the channels flick by, one by one. "Suppose I just am all sung out. I don't know. Maybe since school's been so hectic I have lost all my creative genius." She finally replied as he landed on a channel he thought interesting. Then two minutes later he would change the channel again, land on one he thought interesting, change that one, and continue the cycle. Her father couldn't stay interested in something for too long. It was just the way he was. He had always been that way. Something Vanessa had received from him was his attention span. But she had it under control more than he did. As he continued flipping through the channels again, Vanessa sighed; "Pick one, won't you Dad? Really. It's not that hard."