In the absence of my muse

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Just when I desperately need my brain to work does it decide to abandon me in the middle of this race against time.  I felt betrayed.

I am frantically filling up forms and recalling what I’ve been through this past three years, emailing people who could vouch for my good work ethics and the value I put into scholarship, compiling supporting documents, and writing brief descriptions of my qualifications. But when I start to write a free essay that can be anything under the sun, my brain suddenly comes  to a halt. Writers are supposed to wait for inspiration from their muse, but with this situation I cannot anymore afford to wait to be possessed by the spirit of my muse while the clock is ticking unusually fast.

For the sake of exposition, allow me to name my muse Calliope as she is wont to be called in Classical Greek as the muse for epic poetry. The daunting task before me is akin to an epic in proportion. But this muse Calliope, during this time when I need her most, abandoned me as if I’ve never tried to satisfy all her whims.

Muses are not to be trusted, this I know a long time ago since I started writing but forget every time I embark on a writing exercise. They are not there when you need them but they will bother you like a pregnant woman when they demand to be immortalized through writings on papers or binary numbers on computer screens. This usually happens during the most inconvenient of times. They are merciless, capricious, irrational being we wish to trap in our brains but remain untamed, wild. They enslave us without any chance of emancipating ourselves. We remains theirs but they could never be ours.

The muses can be flabbergasting sometimes, but they are almost always beautiful to look at. They are exasperating but worth all the effort of worshiping them. They appear when you least expect them, this I think makes them so special to me and to some other writers who, like me, experience this feeling of hallowness inside.

I shall not write an ode for my muse, Calliope. Instead I will write a lamentation, a wail.

5 thoughts on “In the absence of my muse”

  1. I’ve been doing that for a few months, the emails and coverletters and qualifications and all that stuff. This morning I found my dream graduate program, but when I opened the first page of the application, I found that I’m supposed to write 4 essays on random topics 1000 words each. I’ve been sitting here all day trying to figure out what to write, but nothing! Best of luck!!

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