The television is off. When Matt isn’t here I normally don’t watch television. I’m sitting in my living room with the lights off, and explosions in the sky on the stereo. My brother has gone south to see a friend, leaving me home alone. I’m hoping the downtime, and the soothing music will bring a spark to me. I’ve recently wanted to write more, to be a writer; not the novelist kind, but a journalist, or op-ed contributor. The only problem is when I sit to write I can’t ever think of anything. I have a blog (www.mikebrandes.com) which is a collection of different things I’ve written. There isn’t much cogency in the different articles, or posts. This is why I’m doomed to failure in trying to write, or be a writer. I don’t have enough to write about, I don’t know what to write about. I have writer’s block. So far this process as been unsuccessful, and as I continue to stare at my screen, and backlit keys on my keyboard, I now more than ever understand how inadequate I am to be the things I want to be.
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