monochrome

I sit down, and stare hard at that keyboard. The paper. The pens and pencils.

"You're going to write."

Stare at the lamp's bare bulb until it burns my retina. Watch the ceiling fan rotate slowly, blades swishing like lazy goldfish swimming in the same fishbowl over and over and over again. Is it me or is the room darker than it usually is?

"Put the pen to paper. Make the magic happen."

Stare outside. Not a single thing in sight, not even an occasional bird. The gray overcast sky casts a pallid color over everything, and it feels like there has never been color here. 

if there is no color then why waste time mixing the ink?