There are a lot of crappy things running inside my mind – that oozing desire to write down another breathtaking piece of affinity and abhorrence, of the dreadful truth behind politics and perhaps, something about my likes- to at least give everyone a portion of me. However, I ended up writing about how I had a tough time choosing a particular theme.

I was thinking on writing a piece which talks about the struggles of couples who are eagerly striving to catch up with their happy-never..oops, I mean, happy-EVER-after. Honestly, I already had the characters made up, and the lead protagonists were supposed to be Josh and Antonette (I didn’t know where on earth I picked those names). The only problem I had until now, is that stupid plot. I just don’t want a story enough to be buried in the pit of mediocrity. I wanted thrill. I wanted fun. I wanted more. That was why I ended up with nothing.

Another idea popped up - just like how a zombie would rose from its tombstone. Politics was what my mind was whispering to me (I didn’t know human minds can even whisper..) I was thinking of addressing some issues concerning bureaucracy and the flaws and faults of the Philippine government and several local and public agencies. But, I was too lazy enumerating all its flaws.. I would belong gone even before I could finish the list. I hate politics. I abhor its dirty games. But what I hate the most is not writing something about it – due to exhaustion.

I stood frozen for a moment… thinking about the horror I had last night while I was crouching down reading a book about an old crappy murder- a though then flickered into my mind (a good sign that my brain is still working).

Books! How about writing an article about books? I fancy them so much and I would love it more if I could share it to my dear readers. The whole article would depict how much I adore reading books, the variety of books that I read, my favorite author, and how I would love it if my readers would read this readable article. But there’s nothing more to it.  Just me being a bookworm. Just that.

It’s been hours already and I’m still holding this blue inkless pen (no wonder I haven’t written any thing). I wish that I would be able to come up with a magnificent topic not just how I struggle to create one because I abhor writing about not having to write any thing. Am I even making any sense?