Blank is good.

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.

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