dear you,
it's a blank space baby, and i'll write your name. oops! yeah whatever.
it's the summer of 2020, raging global pandemic and - ugh!. see that's why I wasn't writing to you because theres no content. i am blanked out. i am looking at the ticking hands of the clock. i can most certainly hear a bird chirping and gosh i am so sleepy.
now that i think about it, we are all so boring. literally very boring. we are like blank pages (not blank canvases because dude i am not drawing artistic parallels here). now i get it why we are so obsessed with making memories. memories are like little blots of ink on our blank page that makes it not so blank (??)
here we are almost living one day over and over again. imagine you are an ethereal projection hovering over yourself and the others and you realise, 'dang they are so blank, so uninteresting'.
is this why people decided to form these concrete constellations like birth, school, college, work, marriage etc so that we are always on the treadmill of life and dont come to a standstill like now because god forbid! we would be so blank. pudgy little soulless creatures.
i have another question. my mind is blank and then it is not. yeah exactly it doesnt make sense. see i dont have content to write because my mind has gone blank but then again i ranted. it is confusing. hmm i'll think about it.
yours truly.
