X

Every now and then I get this dreadful thought.

One day, I’ll run out of ideas. I only get a limited number of them to come up with and when I’ve used them all, I’ll be empty. Non recyclable material. No other way to produce energy. I only have that given amount, and that’s that. My mind is becoming extinct, and every time I put it out there is a reminder that I’m throwing it away a little bit more.

I imagine this happening not just with thoughts to write about, but with everything else in life. It’s like I’m on a game show, browsing categories, knowing that there are only so many panels I can choose before the game is over. If I don’t get a job, that’s one more thing that’s been crossed out of my list. That opportunity is gone. Nothing will replace it. That panel has an X on it. If I like a guy and he doesn’t like me back, no one will take his place. X again. If I do something right, if I choose a panel and get the correct answer, then things are better. But I still used one, and I’m not getting it back. It’s always "one less" in my book.

It’s scary. My world gets smaller each time.

And so it is. Another idea out there.

Another one down.

How many to go?