Why don't you tell me something about you?

It's okay. You don't have to be afraid.

Nothing? All right. Suit yourself.

It's not like I really care all that much about you or even want to know anything about your life. I just didn't want to be rude. But if you're going to be like that then I guess I'll keep writing.

And don't think you can just jump in when you feel like it. I gave you a chance. You made your choice. So, don't go interrupting me when the mood moves you.

Anyway.

Where was I?

Right. Starting.

It's especially difficult to start when you have nothing to say. This is also not some amazing insight. I realize that. Counterintuitively, I feel like we don't state the mundane enough. It becomes a sort of background noise in our consciousness, and thus we've turned the mundane into fact.

I say question the mundane!

I say that saying it's difficult to say something when you have nothing to say isn't a fact at all!

Actually, that's definitely not a new concept either. There are infinite verbose volumes of superfluous tripe floating through the ether. Such nonsense is so prevelant that it is mundane to point it out! I think this means I should question the facts I just asserted given they aren't facts. Or possibly because they are mundane.

Maybe both? I hope someone's keeping track of this. I sure ain't.

So, it is easy to begin when you have nothing to say. Or, rather, it isn't not easy to begin when you have nothing to say.

Hold on.

This may be the appropriate time to entertain happy mediums.

Perhaps the mundane is the background noise, but also each specific background noise within each consciousness is not the same. For some, it is easy to go on and on about nothing while others find it difficult or even downright impossible. But I am not here to speak for the masses.

My own background noise is the only background noise I hear. And I am of another group (allowing, of course, for the theoretical existence of infinite groups) made up of people (or one person, or theoretically nobody) who brute force it regardless the psychological toll.

The brute force method is painful like walking home after a 300 mile fall or doing complex math after brain trauma or not drinking a gallon of coffee every day. It's very hard to do. The brute force method requires a significant level of discipline. Which I, of course, do not have. An apt metaphor for my own personal version of the brute force method is someone going to the gym for the first time in 20 years, lifting a thousand pounds with nobody to spot them then going home and eating five gallons of ice cream while simultaneously quitting their job with an expensive drug habit. It's painful, terrifying, makes you sick, leaves you homeless and you can't stop smoking it.

So why do it?

I'll answer that question with another question: what is the alternative? Is it possible to not do it? No.

I guess technically, I answered it with two questions and an answer, but you get the point. I do it because I can't not do it. I exist because I don't not exist. And I will continue existing until I stop. And I'll continue writing pointless nonsense until I stop