...something to write about.
It's not as if I have nothing to say. I do. But each time I've started in, I bailed out before finishing.
I could blame it on the weather, maybe. It's 78 degrees, very humid, overcast and there's a strong wind blowing. Out over the ocean, there are rain showers, but whatever might be falling here evaporates -- or blows away -- before it hits the ground. Makes me feel restless, edgy.
But that's only part of it, or maybe nothing more than an excuse. There's a lot going on in the world that bothers me; despite my preoccupation with the personal situation, I can't help noticing that many other things are going badly outside my own little space. I have opinions about them, but no real motivation to write.
My premonitory sense is working overtime. I can't shake the feeling that something is going to happen; whether it'll be good or bad, I couldn't say. I'm hoping for good, but recent experiences are preventing me from being optimistic.
No, I don't want to write about the ills of the world, the venality and stupidity of politicians or anything of that nature. Nor do I want to write about me in my current state. I want to write about something positive, if possible something that makes me -- and other people -- happy.
If I should happen to find a bottle with a genie inside today, I'll be hard-pressed to think of three wishes to ask for. I have only two.
PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: Actually, I do have a third wish...it just doesn't relate directly to me....
This would be a fine, fine day for a miracle.
That would get the words flowing, believe me!
1 day ago