I've had this blog for over half a year.
During that uneventful time there have been numerous instances where I have resolved to sit myself down once and for all and actually write something down.
Nothing, absolutely nothing comes to mind.
Oh the exasperation, full of curled knuckles and gritted dentition, Here sits I, pondering the existence of my wretched accursed 'blog' and its gallingly fragile connexion to my real life. In doing so I inadvertently begin probing into the fundamental forces which make up the universe.
Questions, Questions, Questions.
Questions like, 'What is a blog? What do I write in it? Who on earth or off of it am I writing to and Why? Wherefore, says I, should They be given the opportunity to encroach upon the ultimate secrets of nothingness that border My aggravated mind? Such Secrets wherewith I have the very fabric of space and time within my grasp. Never mind the incomparable secrets of what I had for Lunch, and how that will inexplicably aid me in my archetypal quest for Global Domination.
'Why', I defiantly challenge the Blank Wall with the all-encompassing question.
I receive as a reply the vast flatness of its expressionless plane, an unparalleled retort of utter contempt and disregard that induces within me an indescribable sinking of spirit.
I accept the inevitable, my Defeat.
Insanity, Insanity, Insanity.
Unanswered questions unable to find their resolutions swirl maddeningly around within my tormented brain like water and soap bubbles with each and every molecule fighting their demented way down towards the sink hole, an intense psychotic free-for-all.
Silence. Only the incessant whirr of time breaks the otherwise even stillness.
'All of these questions", my rational mind calmly points out, "are completely subjective.'
'Please go on.' I reply, the irrationalities of my former train of thought, being in the state of utter defeat, are now completely subdued. Sense and Reasoning are in complete control.
Acquiescing, They go on to tell me that a blog is in fact a rather reasonable pursuit. Not entirely as a medium through which I share my discoveries of the universe with others of my kind, but a sanctum, a personal sanctuary where I can lay bare the ramblings of a tortured mind, and piece them together, fragment by fragment, until at last they can find their worthy place among the ramblings of greater minds, forever admired, forever esteemed.
'Ha! But this seems altogether too good to be the honest truth!' I cry, 'If it were so simple a task, I would have already filled this place with so much word that literal saturation would have long since appeared in the realms of possibility!'
'Your literative outflow has been stymied thus far,' They reply, 'Forget heredity, the blockages within your mind are uncommonly thick to the point that they were undoubtedly caused by rocks sewn into your brain at birth as the result of some cruel doctor's prank. However, henceforth it shall not be so. Set forth, young mind, you have much to accomplish. Break out of the fetters constraining your consciousness, dig deeper into the expansive ocean of meaninglessness and seek for the answers to your endless plethora of questions. You must write.'
So write I shall, of my Life, of my Deductions, of my Newfound Self-proclaimed Wisdom, of my lunch, of my dinner, and of Icecream, bananas and cake.
And slowly, ever so slowly, the fickle path of destiny will be revealed.
You are within my Grasp.