Blank

Nothing is coming to mind.  I have been sitting here for quite some time, trying to think of something profound to say.  I want to write something that will cause others to stop and ponder.  Tonight, nothing is there.  Could it be the lack of inspiration is connected to the late nights of my weekend? Maybe it is all the distractions around me:  the Superbowl, my roommate reading this as I type, and the realization that I didn’t do enough homework this weekend. 

 

Whatever the reason, my mind is blank.  I asked my roommates for inspiration.  The advice I was given was that this is like a journal, so journal.  I do keep a journal; I feel it helps relieve stress and process my thoughts.  How comfortable am I divulging these thoughts to others?  I could pour my soul out on this blog, but I don’t know if people would want to read it.  I don’t know everyone in our class well enough to unload on them. 

 

I like to give the impression of being whole, complete, especially to those with whom I am not well acquainted.  The truth is I’m not.  I could write pages and pages on my incompleteness.  I know I am not alone in this.  In some way, I believe most people feel this way.  This feeling connects us all on some level, we are not all unalike.  Maybe keeping this in mind I’ll be able to more openly express my thoughts and feelings for others to see.  I guess my mind is not so blank after all.  

RW