Blah blah is the word of the day, although it’s really two words that are synonymous with one another.

This is what dogs hear, this is what horses hear, this is what chickens hear, this is what goats hear. And though we enunciate, this is what we hear when we attempt to make ourselves clear. Humans are the only creature that suffer from foot in mouth disease. And boy does that shoe leather taste good, especially once the shoe has aged some. Laces, they’re the chaser.

Blah blah in writing, not such a bad thing. It is what one does to counter self-censoring. The writer throws the ideas out there, lots of them, then goes back and removes that which (at least in their conscious mind) fails to lend itself to what they’re saying.

Blah blah may take the form of a word, sentence, paragraph, or paragraphs. I’m sure that there are people out there who have written entire books but kept just a single sentence. And there are some who see their entire work, or works, as simply consisting of blah blah.

I write a lot of blah blah: Shelf Life, which I am revising, was three quarters blah blah. But in leaving it for a bit (and simply writing dispatches), I saw blah blah for what it is, an H word, halb halb. This is a mirror image of the word blah blah. This is most fitting. No one sees themself when they look in the mirror. Rather they see their mirror image. The image is real, but at the same time fictive.

I had a hard time coming up with the word blah blah. Then I felt committed to writing about it. I was stuck. My subconscious, laughing, said that I should have instead written about the word balance. I told my subconscious that I decided to instead forge ahead writing about blah blah, and in the next few days write a dispatch about balance. Yes, to be a good writer, you have to balance many things, though at this moment I do not know what this might be. If I commit, my subconscious will take the bull by the horns and at this time tomorrow come up with something insightful, which it will send to my conscious.

My father once was talking about the U-dig ‘em hole company. I don’t remember the context. He said you buy a shovel and you dig the hole. This is what I have done with this dispatch. I bought a figurative shovel, and I am digging a hole. The hole is where this particular dispatch will reside.

I don’t know if my writing about blah blah is so blah blah that I will, when the time comes to chose the dispatches for A-Z, instead for my B entry include writing on the B word, balance. If I do abandon this, I will have decided that this dispatch contained too much blah blah.

Only time will tell, and right now she’s remaining quiet.

Next: 14. 1/14/24: Nulla Dies Sine Linea: Energy