The Identity of My Muse

The world is a cruel, cruel place… And that’s the god awful truth. Luckily for we poor saps living under this blue-grey sky there is fun dotted here and there in our world…
But apparently I have done some misdeed on one of my former lives and the great mother saw it fit to bestow me with this muse,

My muse is an elf… For those who know me they know why this is such a cruelty to me for those who don’t…

I hate elves. I hate the elves in Lord of the Rings, The Inheritance trilogy (they’re really the same basic elves in my opinion), the Harry Potter series… I hate them all. I think their evil, sadistic, riddle speaking monster that need be bashed over the head with something blunt and heavy,

Indeed I sometimes even say that I’m racist against elves… I apologize if there are elves out there getting offended,but for goodness sake, speak in plain speech you evil little things! Not all of us understand your double speech!

And my muse is an elf… God help me that might explain my insomnia and why inspiration comes in sudden bursts after sleepless nights.

I stay up all night as my subconscious puzzles out the riddle and then I suddenly understand it and all becomes clear hence the inspiration flows so heavily my head is spinning and I don’t eat until the inspiration juice is gone and then I’m left feeling drained and dazed.

To add insult to injury my Elfin muse is male… how does one survive when one’s muse is a male elf and one is a female vampire?!
I have exhausted what was left of my creative juices so now I bid all a fond farewell and go to stare up at the ceiling and try not to fall asleep.

Adieu.