I sat alone in the coffee shop, like I've done a million times before.
I wanted to write. Poetry, Fiction, A funny story maybe, or a trying to be funny article. Just something. My thoughts were all over the place.
Writing, scrapping it off. Dreaming and Wondering.
Words failed me. I reached a blank. It continued for a long time. Really long time. This is it. I can't write anymore. Not at least now.
Out of stuff to write about?
Lack of inspiration?
Way too content with life?
End of the road?
Questions. Questions. Questions.
Then I heard a song....
"The answer my friend, is blowin' in the wind. The answer is blowin' in the wind".
Thank you Mr.Dylan.
Would you like another coffee?