What to write about

The air feels stuffy and warm, though the fan drones on. The room is dark, save a few green red and blue lights from various devices. The monitor slowly brightens shining fiercely into drowsy eyes. The blank text document stares at the timid writer; white light shows the landscape of the dark keyboard. The 100-some keys having a myriad number of possible combinations, yet none come to the mind of the writer. He sits in the dark waiting for the words type themselves, so as to encourage him. None appear and he is lost, staring at the vastness of possibility. The green light of his watch show the number "2:54." The monitor fades to black, and the writer climbs into his bed. The writer sleeps and as he does, he dreams of things he may never write.