Five-hundred words, seems like something that could be easy to do. I sit in my hard back plastic chair as the screen runs Microsoft Word flawlessly. I think of what I should or shouldn’t say. The computer is roaring for it is not used to being so heavily used in one day. Clicking the mouse all over the screen trying to find an inspirational idea, so that I can start and finish such daunting work. The black Dell screen of my schools computer matches the sleek black keyboard and mouse. I put my red flash drive that never leaves my ID into the USB slot that is so familiar to me and begin to type. Stroking some key strokes soft with contemplation, some hard with a passionate furry that comes and goes. My wrists begin to cramp from typing for what seems like hours but only minutes. I speed up as the familiarity of the keyboard comes back. I, A, M, F, E, E, L, I, N, G, the keys rushing past my finger tips as if I’m speeding by on a motor-cycle.

            Once again the fearful pain of writers block strikes me like a brick wall. I look around at the walls seeing only distracting things. Friends playing games and posters that make me think. Why can’t I focus on something so easy? I decide to take out my shimmering black iPod with a built in video camera and radio, to listen to. It’s peaceful and entertaining sounds help me stay relaxed and cool in my times of need. It also gives me the strength I need to get focused before times of stress. This situation calls for some classic rock. I skim through my playlist, which is all too long. Boston, Cream, the Rolling Stones; what do I choose? I decide to play some Journey knowing that Open Arms will calm me down and maybe even inspire me. Then an idea strikes me, why not write about what it feels like to gracefully waltz with my friends from ballroom dance class. Maybe that’s what I’ll finish the story with. It doesn’t seem to have the strength to finish such an enduring story though. Something with a ba-da-bang should really end this story.

            Once again in a rut, I find it harder and harder to find something to talk about. I decide that maybe switching to a more upbeat style of music will get some blood flowing into my brain. I quickly go back to my list of songs that seems endless. I look into some dance and hip-hop songs that have a quick enough beat to get you up and fist pumping in seconds. Maybe something that fast wouldn’t help out. Then it hits me, why can’t I just write about this whole experience. The one where I had to write a five-hundred word descriptive paper that only took but a few minutes to write. The idea seemed as genius as the light-bulb was to Thomas Edison.