Hello, my old friend. Nightly terror. Nemesis.
Here you are staring at me every night asking me… what have you done today? What do you have to say about yourself? What will you expose now?
You stare at me until I give up and just spew out whatever my mind needs to release.
Sometimes you think, what do people want to hear? What do they care about? What do YOU care about? I open up all of my favorite quotes. I look at different articles trying to find inspiration to write about anything.
But instead, I see you blank page.
I rarely find myself excited to see you. Rarely excited to see what will happen as the word count increases. Mostly because I don’t know what will happen along the way.
What do I discover as I get rid of you? Do I find another piece of myself? Do I find grains of truth? Or is this a meaningless jumble of words mashed together to accomplish a task that is not really a task?