found via playgroundlover
Sitting in the shower, staring at the white tiles as water embedded me slowly, I leaned back, enjoying the contrast of the cold porcelain tub on my heated skin. The comfort of baths must be universal. I couldn't think of one person that wouldn't enjoy a long hot soak. No, not as I closed my eyes and gave my thoughts away to nothing. For the first time in a long while, not a single thought inspired me to wake up and write, not a single murmur or hum interrupted the calm. In the bath tub, nothing inspired, nothing sparked and the swishing of water was just the sound of my body shifting around. To most people it sounds dead and wish less, but when you've suffered and heard nothing but the rushing cars, beeping phones, click and clattering keys, non-stop talking, shouts and calls inside your mind for desperate inspiration... Nothing is the best medicine around.
