Being Blank

I have been sitting to write something in here like for an hour now; trying to get some ideas. Apparently they don’t come anymore.

 I am blank. Completely ripped off ideas. I browsed through some other interesting blogs. There are so many issues to cover, but I am too bored to do so. Serious issues are not my cup of tea at the moment. Nor is something humorous. How can I be humorous when I am bored?

So now what? Nothing really.

I have noting to say. Nothing to think about. Nothing to do. Nada.

That is pissing me off. Mostly I whine about not having time to write. No time to read novels. All there is to it is sleep, eat and study; not necessarily in that order.

But now? When I am actually taking a break? What is happening? Everything seems boring. Movies and sitcoms seem boring. Meaningless yet meaningful things creep into the mind. A blank mind has nothing but everything. Colours. A thousand years. No past, no present, no future.

Only static like in an old TV.

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