Sometimes blank is good.
It wipes away all that was messy, neglected, unfinished and unwanted.
The previous month of my life was like that. I experienced blank. I wanted to write, but didn’t have anything to write about or couldn’t ruminate much. The blog remained blank, staring at me with loving eyes. But I couldn’t give it the love it willed to receive.
I was away.
It was away.
Now I came back again to touch it with my bare hands, to cradle it with my loving affection.
I don’t know more. I am blank. I have now nothing to say.