Ever reach that moment of exhaustion where delerium and genius meet? I think I’m there. Well, almost. Exhausted, yes. Genius. Well, that’s a stretch. I have the desire to write, but feel drained and really unmotivated at the moment. But if I think on it long enough, maybe something will happen. Hardly.

I wouldn’t say genius is merely a representation of one’s intelligence, but of their talent. And I have plenty. It’s like the untapped well of oil, awaiting dredging; Or the mine yet undiscovered of rare gems.

Yes, that’s what I am. My stories are rare gems waiting to be found, in the rough and polished. To find these treasures, one has to excavate my mind. Go spelunking and use a pick to get deep at the secret cache within. 

So my talent already shown is the teaser to the unaccessed raw ability I contain. That could be called potential, I guess.

I just know that sometimes I’m too tired to even think of picking up the pickaxe.