It was a scary moment. The moment when my fingers couldn’t find a pattern, a rhythm, a song on the keyboard.
Initially I was so against tapping plastic. I was an ink and paper baby. Reams and reams littering my bedroom floor. I loved to rub my fingers over the back of the sheets – I pressed down so hard with my biro i engraved my words into the body of the paper. That’s called creating.
But I was persuaded and soon the tap tap became a part of me, my internal harmony.
But I came back and hated it. Hated words. Sentences. Making you laugh. Having to click Post, having to place tags, all the days I’d missed, adding them, subtracting, seeing the mountain grow as the plates shifted and soon the tap tap stopped – Did you miss it?
Did you miss me? Did you notice that i’d gone. It’s a sad day when the writer can no longer write. But I could. I just didn’t want to. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to construct. I didn’t want to tell you what I thought. It would’ve been so much effort, and the themes were the same.
That was the most annoying part. There were several themes that had lodged inside, and they were the only things I wanted to talk about. And I was afraid i’d make you bored…so I chose not to write.
Instead I began to horde my words, store them up inside, hidden from view, I didn’t even know what was sitting up there, if you asked, I wouldn’t’ve been able to tell you.
But you didn’t ask. Your eyes always grew vacant, so I kept my stories and whispered them at night, to the shades and the shadows that danced the bacchanal over the walls, under the covers.
I was a midnight teller, breathing to life situations. I was a street laugher, the comedy drooping from my mouth as my feet traced pavements – but you didn’t know the joke: not the punchline or the ending, you didn’t even know the beginning – did you even know me? Did you miss me?
Tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap.
The words are coming back, slowly, surely…tap tap…would you like me to come back?
Even if you do, I won’t. This time you’ll have to come and find me – in my story, in the sound of my tap tap