As I sat down and try to write this,
I suddenly realize
an unfortunate truth:
I am out of ideas.
In my head, there is nothing.
Out of inspiration, out of things to write.
This was my biggest fear.
And my biggest fear was realized.
Weirdly, I wrote a lot for Quora.
Eleven answers just this week.
Yet, now, for the magazine,
My imagination is bleak.
I have nothing.
I yearn for something,
For anything.
But
I have nothing.
