"you just wrote a blog in the air"

what would it be like, to have nothing?

there would be nothing to talk about, literally.
you would never complain about the weather, or how you forgot your umbrella on the rainiest day of the year, or how it's a such a nice day and you're mad you're locked inside your four-walled cubicle, or just simply how it's sunny out.

you certainly would never talk about movies, or who is in them, or what they're about, or how the plot just isn't there, or that movie theater popcorn is hard to duplicate so you make up for it while it's available, or how anyone who actually buys candy at the movies just doesn't have big enough pockets.

you could never complain that your car didn't start this morning, or how you're out of gas, or how in one-thousand, three-hundred thirty-two miles you need an oil change, or how your tires are aligned so they're slightly off and every time you let go of the wheel it shrugs to the left.

there would never be talk about food, or eating it, or making it, or throwing it. there would never be talk about lunch, or what's for it, or who is making it, or what you like on top of your salad, or burger, or taco. taste buds don't really exist, and the only thing you'd ever taste would be your words which mean nothing anyways.

you wouldn't spend any time lacing your shoes, or shopping at the mall, or working.
or learning.
or teaching.
or talking.
or breathing.

you'd be similar to one of those DNA machines that shows a human being rotated three-hundred sixty degrees every minute, or maybe a little faster, as it rambles off all the information that would only be important to you if you were in the CIA, or you were trying to solve a crime, or you just wanted to buy the right size pants.

i guess i couldn't really tell you what it would be like to have nothing, because the thought is too far-off to fathom. i wonder if people spend their time thinking about the things that i do, although i severely doubt it.