Is it the music?
Are there thoughts built up inside, stacked up in a heap as before a dam, just waiting for you to give them some medium by which to come free?
If you do, if you set before yourself a piece of paper and a pen, or a blank blog space on the computer, do you write for someone to read? Often that is the most motivating for you, for then you gain something back from what's inside of you and what you are taking the effort to bring out; then someone outside of yourself it brought into those things you knew were deep parts of your own self, but which you somehow, innately sought to put outside of you for someone else to come upon and comment, to your or to themselves. But you know it's at least out.
And perhaps it is nothing whatsoever. Perhaps it is many words that really say nothing. But even if that is the case, you did something- you were sitting by yourself knowing you were thinking thoughts and not knowing what they were but for some reason deciding to write them down.
Why does this happen?
I am listening to Greg Heffernan, who is a cellist and who's music is strange and nice and interesting and a little annoying if you're not in the mood, I guess. So maybe listening to the music makes me imagine things that I myself can't quite picture, and more than anything, it reminds me that there is a world outside of myself, this room, where I sit enclosed from anything outside in that world so that I forget it is even there, and the music reminds me and in some desperate need to link myself to that world, I write something.
Oh, the new possibilities of the internet.

Interesting...

"Now I'm convinced that music is a kind of language that can approach our soul directly, without going through our brain. We play music because we can communicate with it better than with any other language." ~ Satoko Fugii

"Yah, we've got a fight ahead of us, but we've got something Voldemort doesn't - something worth fighting for." ~ Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix [movie].