Blink/Blank

Mostly, I just stare, then blink, and realize there's nothing to write about. Scenes from my day, or my week, flash briefly across some blankness and then go away, just as quickly. I blink again and realize, once more, that there's nothing to write about. There's this germ of a writing project that's planted itself into my mind's soil that's been haunting me from time to time, though when I sit down to begin, I find that there's nothing there.

Even that last sentence was an afterthought (whose verity should not be discredited, however).

I should go away, one of these days.

Then I'll probably bring something back with me, something to tend that seed with.

Excuses, excuses.