Inspiration is everywhere, we just dont see it. We are too busy to see it. I am easily inspired, which immediately sets me apart from everyone else. So far Ive written "Writers" watching people write in class, "Reality" after baby-sitting my 5-year-old brother, "Limits" because I got grounded, "Rain" during a storm, and "Luck" on Friday the 13th. I am looking out the second story window, by the way we are on tornado watch so the wind is insane, and the tree outside reminds me of Cousin It from the Adams Family. It is huge and green, swaying in the wind. I like to think that each leaf is a story, an inspiration, waiting to fall and be told to all the world. Although I can be inspired by the sock the dryer eats, why, in our world, is it so hard to find inspiration?
