Many thanks to college

Jacob sat cross-legged in front of his laptop, searching for words in his head to start his work. He sat staring towards the blinking line on his blank screen as it, too, impatiently waited for the writer to rape it with words. But nothing came; not a drop of inspiration manifested. He was thinking that maybe he was losing his touch and being able to write would eventually abandon him.

He wrote. He wrote for months, not of stories created by his imagination, but by forces that seemed bent on destroying it: web content, research, thesis, analysis.

He never had a chance to explore. He never even had a chance to open a book. There they lay on an empty corner of his room, laced with cobwebs, just like his imagination.

“Isn’t it ironic that the very institution that molds us to become productive men would keep us from becoming productive by denying us our dreams today?” he thought. “

Jacob sat cross-legged in front of his laptop, lost in his search for words.