You, Blanking White Page. You’re Nothing But A Bleeping Wasteland!

By Drew Coffman via Wikimedia Commons

I thought I’d never see you again. But here you are, staring at me like a white light at the end of an airport ramp packed with waitlisted souls.

God, you are not. You are the opposite, in fact, a hot-headed cousin of Lucifer. You blow smoke up my synapses and burn my eyes with what I thought was desire but is eyestrain instead.

As I stare into oblivion, not a word on the page, an obnoxious internal voice (one of your disciples, I suspect), derives pleasure from nagging me.

Hey, dummy, the language in the document is set to French. No wonder, the dictionary doesn’t recognize the word ”blank” or “obnoxious.”

That could happen to anyone.


Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy me?

Yes, but this is much more fun. Don’t you have laundry to do?

I still have “B” drawer clothes.

Not those old ratty jeans that are so faded the holes have holes.

I’ve got a long shirt that hides them.

Another hair-brained “I love Lucy” solution. Anyway, I thought you were trying to write… if that’s what you call sitting at your desk with eyes glazed over like a ham.

I was making progress until you interrupted me.

No, you’re brain dead at your desk.

It’s late. I’m fried.

Brain dead, like I said. Why waste your time trying to squeeze out a thought. You could be sleeping two dogs deep in bed with the snorer.

I elbow him when I can’t take it anymore.

I was talking about you!

I could sleep if you didn’t yammer incessantly about nonsensical shit. What’s a Goople anyway?

It’s the dying civilization of the Goop; distant relatives of swamp people who coexist with crocodiles with whom they compete for food. But the crocodiles usually win. And the Goople race continues to dwindle in numbers while the crocodiles thrive.

And you wonder why I can’t sleep at night.

You can’t write either. Remember, blanking page, whiny babble?

Well, this time your cynical drivel and crazy ideas have actually helped. See the words!

Frump you! I’m not done yet. As soon as you’ve finished belching from your lousy cooking, I’m going inundate you with more crazy shit.

Great, another sleepless night to look forward to. Damn it! Stop hogging the blankets!

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This post originally appeared on ThinkSpin.

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