A blank page taunts me, mocking my inability to extinguish its existence. The taunt spurs me into action. I exhort my already exhausted grey cells to work overtime. But nothing seems good enough to take on the blank page. Helplessness has given way to despair and now seems to be in a mad rush to admit defeat.
I realize I am no match for the blank page. I am not an avid blogger with a point-of-view on anything and everything. I am neither a voracious reader with eclectic tastes, one who can pull a trick or two from the bag. I am just a passerby on a busy street. If something makes me smile or gets me worked up, I am prone to have a go at the blank page. It is then that thoughts, like dark thunderclouds, begin to emerge in the corners of my mind.
Alas, now my thoughts are swept away by the bright countenance of the blank page. Words that were trying to sneak in also beat a hasty retreat.
This is not a battle amongst equals. A blank page is a formidable foe. How can you fight nothingness without fighting yourself? You will try hard to sound more intelligent than you really are. You will try to be more curious than you really are. You will try hard to be more social than you really are. You will try to be anything but who you really are. That is the power of your opponent.
It is when faced with such moments that all brave men resort to the same powerful strategy. Surrender.
A blank page continues to taunt me.