What I once considered to be my muse and what I sought to find inspiration from is now a desolate land. My once comfortable wave length has become too small, it's too tight, it's like it shrunk and I'm restricted. So, I left, I disappeared for a while, deserting the land which once glittered with promise, I walked away and didn't look back. I occasionally reminisce but it's for a flickering moment, fore now I have realised that I have grown out of it. Like you do with cartoons, imaginary friends and the colour pink. It lost it's spark and for a moment so did I. Then I found it again, on a second wave.