I propose The Omnisphere Paradox.

This paradox states that the amount of options and fantastic sounding presets that are offered to the user in a VST instrument is inversely proportional to the amount of music the user produces.

Omnisphere offers so many options, mappings and the like plus a huge bank of presets that sound amazing. In fact, the presets don't just sound amazing, they sound amazingly amazing. More amazing indeed than a very amazing thing, you could say. So much so that you could grab a heavy lump of blu tak, fasten down a single note on your keyboard, head out for lunch, not forgetting to hit record as you leave, and when you got back you would have an entire post prandial triple disc, space opera album based on Frank Herbert's 'Dune' waiting for you, only requiring you to simply mix down to stereo while burping copiously the gaseous remnants of your lunch. The problem here is that because the presets just sound so amazing, the hapless user depresses a key on the keyboard and as the preset unfolds in all its heptaphonic glory around them the user looks slowly around the room in child like awe, wide eyed and silently mouthing the word 'Wow!!!!' until the R in ADSR has worked its acronymically predictable magic, only to repeat the process for preset number 2 and on it goes. 5 years pass and the hapless user is still sitting there, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and innumerable bottles of their own stale urine and with their single remaining vestigial mummified finger still pressing down C2 they have written nothing, having entered a sort of Zeno's Paradox type of existence where they never quite reach the point of actually committing to a sound and writing something. They have become paralysed in the analysis of presets and options. Maybe the function of the squidgy bio-organic elastomer between seat and keyboard could be automated into the VST synth to speed things up and the result uploaded to Soundcloud automatically in nanoseconds where it could be listened to and categorised by artificial intelligences and jostled up Spotify playlists by algorithms written by other artificial intelligences, long after we have gone extinct and echoing endlessly forward centuries into the arid, dystopian post human future of Earth. Aeons from now, as the last quantum powered Spotify server flickers out of existence, interstellar archaeologists sifting through the micro plastics and dust of our crumbled cities, will wonder exactly how did we manage to scrape by on 192kHz. Well, that's what the guy who works at my local kebab shop says, anyway.