Writer’s Block

I haven’t had a single idea to write about over the last few days. I took a couple of days off from here with hopes that I could come back and be full of ideas. The reality is I have none; at least none that aren’t born from spite or because I have some moral outrage about something else. I’m not interested in writing about that sort of emotionally charged stuff right now. I guess I have been pondering my place in the universe and the meaning of being an end result of a mass of atoms and particles (made up mostly of empty space) placed together in the exact right way. I’ve been feeling small and insignificant; tired and confused; tiny. I have beliefs and views and opinions and so does every single other person on this spinning marble and it seems rather presumptuous to think that what I think really matters. Who do I think I am? Really. I’m just some guy with a high school education who reads too much and cares too much. I am no expert in the sciences and am no high thinking philosopher, but I am human just like the rest of you. I am only an expert on what I experience and on the things that I live through. I am diabetic and I am an expert on how that disease affects my day to day life, but if I am asked about the science and the biology behind it, I can only give a layman’s explanation. I’m feeling a little lost, I’m sure I’ll find the path again, but for now I’ll push through the bushes and wrestle with the beasts of the forest.



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