I'm sure I must have something to say...

I sit here staring at this blank screen and my fingertips feel empty. I dislike this feeling. Feeling like I have nothing to say. Well, nothing worth saying anyway. I have a lot of history, like, a lot. And I have as much future as anyone I know, but how much of that is actually worth pondering right now? How much of that is worth spending the time I've got right now to write down? Isn't what's most important, the "here and now?" Living in the moment? That's the goal as of late.

There's food for thought. Here. And now.

It's quiet here. Nothing but the tap-tapping of my fingers on the keyboard. Not a lonely quiet though, a soft one, a calming quiet punctuated only by the occasional cough from this room, or the next, a remnant of the colds of last week. The tips of my fingers are chilly. I like it that way, especially because the rest of me is usually so hot, and now is no exception. I like the way it feels to touch my cheeks and pretend I can hear a tsssss noise, like a drop of cool water on a heated frying pan. I like the places my imagination goes. The room is disorganized. Cups of water with paintbrushes in them, piles of art books, magazines, sketchpads, boxes and bags full of crayons, colored pencils, pens, markers and the occasional box of "severe sinus congestion" pills surround me. A box of tissues, a cup of raspberry flavored tea, a pile of gluesticks. This is what my life looks like right now. And i love it.

There is a lot to be said for what the moment can give you, can teach you. And by "The Moment" I mean this one. This one right now. The only one you really have.