The Domino effect

It's funny how much can be hinged on the most indiscriminate of details. I've been stuck on some tiny, miniscule, insignificant point for so long that once I climbed over it's metaphorical carapace, the floodgates of inspiration sprung forth like an avalanche. And then five minutes later they slammed in my face. Hard. Adamantium hard. So here I sit, sombre and flustered, trying to scale another miniscule detail. It's hilarious really, beautiful irony, and it seems to be the crux of the writing process. This domino effect, this metered success syndrome, permeates the very idea of inspiration. It's here, its there, you catch it on the breeze or you catch it on a whim, but it's never at your beck and call. Everyone knows that though, so it's not really much of an epiphany. It's like a jail brake - the doors swing wide for just a few seconds, long enough for you to gain some ground, but without fail, every time, that guard catches you and chucks you back in the slammer. Could be worse - at least this way there's time to sit and think.