The soft tapping of fingers across a keyboard is enticing, however it’s merely a false decoy to suppress the writers block that has invaded the vast expanses of your mind; somehow molding the extensive colors and ideas and forcing them into a blank darkness.  The broken elocution in your mind makes translating imagery and senses into words and phrases and pages terribly dreadful.  To think, one moment a masterpiece flows so effortlessly from mind to arm to hand to keyboard to printer that it’s barely realistic, then suddenly the only sound in the room is that of the tapping of the “f” key.  
By now, of course, you’d give anything for a simple sentence, phrase, word, punctuation - anything!  Yet, alas, no creative stroke of genius flashes before your eyes.  The hum of the computer at your desk and the creak of your chair are deafeningly loud against the endless abyss of strangled and forced ideas.  Illumination from the screen is no match for the dark nothingness that was once a “brilliant coming-together of words”.  Again, all sounds drown out as you scramble for some filler or a song to recite to occupy your overworked mind, leaving you alone with that ominous sound of the tapping of the “f” key.
Before the sounds of the single tapping drive you into madness the rest of your hand gets involved, drumming index to middle to ring to pinky and suddenly the tap of the thumb over the space-bar, index to middle to ring to pinky and the tap of the thumb.  Although the lone monotone redundancy of the “f” key is no longer existent, your problem has yet to be solved.  Oh how the tongue of your mind could drabble on and on and on about the diversity in the tick of each key as it is hit by a different finger, or that your thumb is pre-wired to press harder than the other four fingers it shares the space of your hand with.  Could go on for days about the truth behind the tones and whispers of each key and the horrid ugly space in the air between each tap that reminds you there are so many more words to be cultivated.  So, so many more words which you don’t even know exist yet are ready and waiting to be plucked from the crevices of the imagination after the hit of a rather interesting inspiration, yet none of them form at your fingertips.  Slowly you realize that all sounds in the room have ceased; all but the insufferable sound of that tapping "f" key.