I’m sitting in front of my laptop, hoping to write something reasonably interesting. Something that people will want to read past the first paragraph and either ‘Like’ or post a (positive) comment about. Or simply smile at the end of the one-pager, glad that they spent a few minutes going through it. After all nobody wants to write something that will bore the reader. And if you’re bored reading my writing, then there’s something wrong with you. Or at least that’s how I justify it to myself.
However, I can’t come up with one mind-arousing topic to write about. My brain is a complete blank. I’m attempting to scan it, desperately searching for ideas. Some clue that will guide me forward.
Still nothing.
Considering how much I love food, not just eating but experimenting with, it’s surprising that I haven’t dedicated a single page to it. Can’t say that I haven’t considered it as a topic. Several times I’ve thought about penning words that will make my readers hungry, have them fantasize about their favorite treat, get them to a point where they have no choice but to stop whatever they’re doing and walk over to the refrigerator to look for something delicious. And if the fridge isn’t cooperative, drive down to their favorite bakery/restaurant/snack shop to indulge, with or without the guilt.
But it’s not happening. I’m not quite getting the right words to fill up a drool-over post.
My friend Elsa who I’ve mentioned previously, is very witty. Actually most of my friends are and it’s really laughter that brings us together. When Elsa visited me recently, we would have these goofy conversations (as we always do), play on words, talk and laugh almost continuously. I remarked to her that I should record our conversations and publish them on my blog. She however didn’t think it was such a good idea. “It’s OUR thing,” she said. “You can’t just share it with everyone.”
So much for writing about my goofy conversations with Elsa.
(‘Conversations with E’ could be a good title though).
(I still think that it would make for a very funny read).
(Doesn’t help that I can barely remember any of those conversations now).
I could write about my travels. Travels outside of New York. Which I also happen to enjoy very much. The problem is that these other places don’t give me the kind of fascinating material that NYC does. And I’m very sure that my readers are sick of my (I-wont-name-the-city-again) posts.
P.S. I, on the other hand, am certainly not sick of writing about ‘her’!
As a last resort I suppose I could make stuff up. Pretend that something incredibly fascinating happened in my life that I must share with everyone. I could get ideas from the newspaper (maybe not - it’s all pretty much depressing news), lives of movie stars (but then I’d have to read about them and why would I do that?), lives of people I know (hmmm ... never mind).
I guess I have to accept the fact that my life is largely uninteresting. I’m at a point where I’m struggling to write about Something. Anything.
Instead all I have for you is a page about Nothing.
