Eureka

We may fumble through our lives as writers, and on our way we find things that do not necessarily need. What we do need is ourselves. Some may need “A Room of My Own” or being on the move.
It is the tiniest PING you feel in your mind as it floats around. Grasping it is only the first part-then follows the staring into space as you forget that time races by. Soon you begin to lose all sense of space time and reality as your eyes begin to zoom in on that infinitesimally small dot. All that surrounds it is a blank space. I’d call it the black canvas. Something that spreads beyond the fabric of the human mind.

Soon enough that very dot begins to expand as it burns bright almost like the birth of a star. It begins to become quite the presence on that black canvas. Slowly but surely the no longer dot eats up this black canvas colouring it white. Yet our mind struggles to keep it in place. The now white canvas yet again pushes beyond the very fabric of our minds and then it stops. It stops only for a hoard of colours to splatter this canvas, covering every single bit and corner one could possibly imagine. It is only then do we sense the feeling that brands itself in our heads. That sudden shiver. The feeling of Eureka!

All we truly need is our minds; the very ones in which we get lost in and have countless hidden stories on replay. All our ideas bouncing around the back of our heads. If it were easy to, I’d attempt to show the very loop I have in my brain. This will have to do. However, inspiration doesn’t occur when there’s a light breeze passing or when an autumn leaf drifts slowly down into your palm. Neither will it ever happen when the sky turns a wonderful pink and you sigh contentedly.

Mostly – well in my experience – that moment will happen when you’re sat eating chicken in Costa or when your shoes squelch each time you walk because you’ve forgotten to read the forecast that coincidentally happens to scream heavy showers. It may not be always at the best of times, but we mustn’t forget that it’s that idea in which worlds are born. In that we must plant our roots into that very place.

Now, the Eureka! comes with all the beginnings and ends mushed into one. It is only then do we filter it out. The filtering is what we need to organise our very thoughts.

For people like me to write and cross it out and forget it was even there. Until that pen is picked up once again and we’re overpowered by this force. From then do we realise all the flaws we see in our ideas form the embodiment of our own Eureka! and only then can they take their rightful place upon paper.

Rajiyah Ahmed
16 years old
Hampstead School, London