Who am I if I am not Creative?

staring at the blinking bar on my screen reminds me of the infinte power of over thinking

how can i write when all i hear is the screeching of thoughts followed by static? 

im tired now, tired of being tired, tired of trying so hard

why do i try so hard?

why do i bother?

I sit and i sit and i stare and i stare some more waiting to be struck by the electrocution of brilliance

waiting for a moment of clarity, of realization

but it never comes

sometimes im so consumed with the idea of an idea that i cant even form the proper literation to sound even the tiniest bit coherent

i am a facing a wall, a brick wall, its red rocks mocking me, screaming at me, remind me of how much overthinking controls my every move

im scared, im scared because my whole life is based off the notion that i am creative, and if i am not creative who am i?

what am i?

everything i have ever achieved is because of an idea i had to write, or sing, or create, but now i sit, staring at a blinking bar on the screen thinking of nothing, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. 

who am i if who i was is gone? who will i be if my mind has shut down the highways to creativity? 

I wonder, even now, if i know myself at all. I dont think i do. 

im intoxicated by the idea of being someone great and that idea consumes my soul and deposits tons of pressure onto my chest, blocking my air ways and coating my mind with a thick fog

who am i if im not creative

i dont think im anyone.