As I said yesterday, there are times when I find that words flow from the keyboard almost quicker than I can type them. But yesterday I got sidetracked, something I find happens all too frequently these days. Could it be to do with the increasing years, or is it just that I have not noticed it happening in the past? Anyway, there are times when I find that words flow from the keyboard almost quicker than I can type them. There are other times when I sit staring at a blank monitor screen wondering what on earth I can write about.
But does it matter if I have nothing to say? Is it a sign that my mind is stagnating and I am creeping nearer and nearer to that long sleep? I don't think that is really the case; it's just that some days I have something that is positively bursting to get out of me - and on other days I haven't.
But why do I get these twinges of guilt on the days when I really have nothing to say? It's hardly as if the entire world is waiting with bated breath to read my daily pearls of wisdom. It's just a "me" thing. Having set up this blog I feel obliged to post as near to every day as I can manage. And there's no particular reason for that. I suppose it might have something to do with me being a frustrated writer. I wish I could write. I would dearly like to have the ability to write one of those weekly newspaper columns that are all blather and blarney but provide a little amusement and entertainment during the dark and dreary days of winter. And during the sparkling days of summer as well. But that is not to be, so I must content myself with blogging a few incoherent thoughts day by day.
At least anybody who happens to drop by can easily click the "next blog" button or the "previous site" arrow and consign these inane dribblings to the depths of cyberspace.