Churn baby churn

I find myself today in the unenviable state of the writer’s version of cosmic chaos. I have so much to say, but absolutely nothing to write about. Thoughts, ideas, visions, dreams, beliefs, emotions are all churning through me; but can I pick a single strand from that chaos and turn into a coherent train of thought that lasts 99 words? Alas, no, not today I cannot. On these days, like the universe, one must simply be and not attempt to influence anything. Let it all churn within and as they say here in the Gulf, inshallah, meaning will emerge.