Knuckle On My Head

I am writing all stories half way through only to stop and wonder in between the words. Then dropping the idea and moving on to the next. May be I need a deadline or a noogie just to get my mind in its write (right) place. The weather is beautiful, the surroundings inspiring but the knuckle head in front of the laptop is wasting time. I am busy brushing my hair for the hundredth time. A knot still appears. Why can’t I just tie it up in a bun and write. My fingers can’t get past the entangled strands.

The breeze brushes past
My hair entraps the wanderer
A knotty affair emerges

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