What should I write about?

The lights are reflecting off the screen in a way that makes my whole life look surreal. A white screen with blurry yellow lights greets me. It's blank. No matter how hard I try I cannot think of words to fill it with. My view of the world is a conglomerate of verbs and adjectives and nouns, but none of them seem to fit. There's something in my mind that demands perfection, but I can't provide it. In the living room there's another world-—of football and television and getting excited about men in tights running an oddly shaped brown ball across a field of unnatural grass. Somehow I've managed to escape that. Now I'm trapped in a different sort of prison—one of words, all longing to escape, to find their place on this impossibly blank white and yellow-lit screen. I find myself chained with the knowledge that I simply cannot do them justice, no matter how hard I try. Instead, they will be forced to join the infinite expanse of Lost Words, words that I was too weak to make a place for. They deserve better than me.