It’s the sound of my brain on writer’s block refusing to enter the flow state of the muse.
The feeling of grit squarely in both my gut and clenched teeth as I force myself to pound out words.
The sound of a click as I watch one more Youtube video, a complacent acceptance of procrastination.
It resides in the dreams that plague me of my unwritten novels and unfinished work.
But most of all, it’s the force pushing me forward when all else seems lost.