I am writing a paper. I'm sitting in my fuzzy dressing gown, staring blankly out the window of the nerd box. there is no one in the quad, and I feel like the only one awake. it is, after all, 5 am. I don't know what to write. the stupid little line is flashing, blinking angrily.
I hate blank screens. so daunting. I always have to start writing on paper. typing is too easy, it's too easy to just drag the mouse, erase everything, and start over. but is anything ever really deleted? can you just forget? it's emblazoned across the page in big black letters. you are responsible for this catastrophe. your fingers, for a moment, held down those keys, put those keys in locks and turned them this way and that, unlocking the sequence of your life. even if no one else remembers, doesn't the fact that you do matter?
hyperbolism aside, there's too much possibility in a blank page. you're in a wind tunnel, and all you want to do is close a window or two so you can plant your feet on something solid, anchor yourself.
and that stupid little line keeps flashing.
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