It has been 25 minutes now that I have been staring at this screen, taking sips of coffee, dipping into Facebook and then kicking myself off of it again, asking Google for writing prompts.

And I find myself at this place so frequently when I tell myself to write something.

“Try writing something about what you know”, I heard somewhere on a video last night.

And that’s the problem.

I don’t feel like I know much about much.

Which presses me into these time-filling posts of despondency.

So, alright then, blank screen of frustration- here are a few things I know.

I like to drink my coffee every morning pretty much the same way. French roast, laced with a heart pour of French Vanilla creamer, in my Goofy coffee mug. One cup, usually. That’s all I need for the flavor and the slight morning pick-me-up.

My eyes are not what they used to be. I can’t seem to see very well up close again these days. When I am wearing my glasses at home, my poor vision could be because those glasses haven’t been changed in over a decade. When I am wearing my contacts, they are too strong for seeing up close, and using readers with them, even at the smallest magnification, don’t quite bring my vision to clarity.

There was a time I read a few Erma Bombeck books, and I enjoyed each of them.

Adam Schlesinger, pop composer and bassist for the band Fountain of Wayne, not only wrote the hit title track for the movie “That Thing You Do”, but also a handful of other songs in that film- as well as the bulk of songs in the Hugh Grant project, “Music and Lyrics”. I also learned he died of COVID complications in 2020 at the age of 52- and he was one year younger than I am now. I was sad to learn that yesterday.

I want to write- just to write- all the time, and yet when I sit down to, I have nothing to say.

And I have nothing to say because I censor myself excessively, or devalue anything I start to write about. Other people know more about this. Someone is going to point out I didn’t know what I am talking about. Someone is going to criticize it. Everyone knows I have no clue what I am saying.

And that reticence is the very same reluctance that has informed my decision making over most of my life. What would others say? What if this upsets someone? What if so and so doesn’t like me after this.

My narrow life circles around a handful of things. And if I don’t have to get off my duff to do any of them, I tend to be okay with that. Because sedentary is in my comfort zone.

I would enjoy taking a road trip with Po the cat.

I don’t love my cats equally, despite my best efforts. One lives to eat and crap, and a second is an aggressive bully that owns me. I feel badly that I think like this.

I could live on burritos.

I would live on the road full-time out of a tiny trailer if I could.

I don’t know why I couldn’t find a wife and have kids. It eats me up a lot these days, though I keep just trying to tell myself to let it go.

I feel anxiety quite a bit about the second half of life. I reckon a lot of folks do, though.

I do want to get rid of a lot of junk in my house this year, though.

I am thankful for people who listen to me a bit and help me try to get outside of myself.

Ok- I reckon that’s enough for today.

I did meet with Robert Gish, the teacher of a creative writing class I’ve taken a few times and a man I really like and appreciate for what he knows, and he told me to write an abstract for my Anza screenplay, so I guess as an extended writing exercise this morning I will work on that.