Topic-less

Here I am, attempting to write my second blog in my series of hopeful writing exercises and, true to my nature, I can't think of a single thing to write about. I was supposed to have a different subject for every day, but today I have nothing. However, when I thought about it, it seemed to me nothing is something, if only a negative noun, so I will write about Nothing.

Nothing is, oddly enough, a lot of things. "Nothing," is what we say when something is wrong but we don't want to admit it. Nothing is a scarier afterlife fate than Hell. And nothing is what I have to write tonight.

It's worth mentioning that the whole reason this blog exists is to combat writer's block, and here, on the second entry, I have--not writer's block, mind you--nothing to write about. At first they seemed to me to be the same things, lack of subject material and creative constipation, but they aren't. It's like the difference between being tired and being sleepy. I've had insomnia, and one can be monumentally tired but never fall asleep. It can be the same way with writing: I have quite a collection of ideas and subjects to draw from in my book and story projects; I just have insomnia of the written word.

I'm tired as hell but can't get to sleep.