Beginnings

P1190214 - Version 2

I feel like writing, but I`m not sure what it is I want to say.  All I can think of is this stupid idea that I`ve dreamt…

Sometimes I feel like I should write, as if though my thoughts mattered at that moment. I guess that`s why I write them down… sometimes…. If I didn`t hold any value to them I obviously wouldn`t…

The question I would like to resolve today is: “Who am I to have any important thoughts?”

I still can`t think of anything to write, but the feeling is still there… A need to express something that doesn`t even exist. How absurd…

The overwhelming exterior ideas from different realms of life inspire me, but when digging through this feeling of inspiration I find nothing. Not even confusion. Shallow and empty…

Big words, big emotions but no thoughts…. Very interesting… I wonder how long could I go on writing about nothing?

Probably even this nothing would find it`s audience that will turn it into something. Probably someone somewhere would envy this paragraph that is absolutely empty… Although, the ink is on the paper there isn`t really anything to be read.

If there is an emotion that no one is there to feel, does this emotion really exist? How about taking it even further: if there is someone ready to hear your thoughts but nothing is to be heard; Does that someone eventually hear something?

I guess in my case it would be no and no!

This, that I am hearing and not feeling is really nothing. I am sure of that. I am just a little afraid that someone, someday will come and say: “yes and yes”, and turn this nothing into something.

In light of those hidden hopes I give it to you, my bellowed reader, as I start to write religiously, in search for that nothing.

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