It’s been going on for a while today.
The cheetah at the lamb’s tail. But, it’d appear he is not hungry, because he’d stride up close to the lamb during the chase, take a little bite and watch with keenness how the lamb reacts. After, he’d step down his pace to allow the lamb recoup.
He favoured the tail at first. Since it wasn’t very painful, the lamb was able to recover easily and adjust to the experience. Then he moved up close and personal as he threw a clawed limb at the lamb’s side cracking a rib close to the lamb’s heart. Thankfully, the lamb’s heart was spared, the cheetah thought. It’d be a premature end to his fun. Now the lamb was beginning to understand as it felt the pain. At a time, the lamb saw the cheetah draw back. He was tired of the game. But, suddenly it felt the cheetah breathing down its neck where it stopped to rest. The cheetah had caught up with it again. The suddenness added more shock to the baseline fear of the whole experience. The lamb leapt up in horror. It was wrong. The cheetah knew his cards well and had upped his game.
Why wouldn’t the lamb just give up? Was its survival instinct that potent, or was the cheetah just playing its psyche just right. Give some hope, then also a little fear (leaving the lamb with a net gain of hope). Repeat the cycle many more times till the lamb gets used to having a little hope left. Then, in one quick clean move, dash the accumulated hopes.
The cheetah paused to rest again. Or, at least so to make the lamb think. Suddenly the cheetah saw two all-white eyes, stark, glaring at him above two rows of all-white teeth, huge, baring. The lamb knocked the cheetah quickly with a hoofed limb to the cheetah’s forehead sending him sprawling, out from under the tree where the cheetah was lounging.
In time, the lamb turned on the cheetah and gives him a run for his sanity.
“Inspiration is a male on heat!”
-JARCSH
BACKGROUND: It could be painful when you call yourself an artist, yet you can’t always seem to capture all you want or wish to capture and express properly. Inspiration would come on strong on you, making you feel warm all over and your head/mind bursting with aggressively taunting bits and pieces of imagination.
Initially, you could manage to live a normal life, undisturbed by days when you cannot express your art. Then, after getting used to making fine works of art -music, writing, graphics, theatre,… it starts becoming a part of you to wanna capture and express EVERYTHING that pops into your mind. Days when it’s organised; days when it’s random; nights you can’t sleep yet not much results to show. Yet, as strong and loud as inspiration is, it doesn’t always wait for you achieve orgasm. It comes on, drops all it has to drop, and leaps off you. Leaves you virtually stranded in the dark. High and dry. And cold. Please, pray you can quickly gather what bits you can, and perhaps your audience may enjoy it well enough not to notice you had to sweat using your own wits to piece the many parts together into a masterpiece.
I am not gonna advise any artist reading this to turn on his/her inspiration, but you know it takes a lot to stride at par with this mischievous cheetah called inspiration.
Thank you.
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