Empty, Yet Colorful Void

Oh crap. This is not good. I'm already running out of ideas for posts! It's only been like two and a half weeks, and I'm already hitting the infamous writer's block. How can I even hope to succeed in continuing this blog. I was naive to think I could find some philosophical inspiration every day of my life. Nothing interesting happened to me today. I should have looked for inspiration. I should have gone to a reflecting pond, a graveyard, the roof of a building, something! Maybe I have to search for the meaning of life, instead of waiting for it. But how will I know if I've really found it. I may falsely convince myself of finding it, when I really just want to believe I have. Shouldn't true inspiration be natural, anyway? Is it wrong to read into every little tea leaf in our lives? Is it just human nature to believe in a larger significance, or are people truly called by divine forces to be inspired. Is it inappropriate and immature to pose questions on these kinds of blog posts? Probably. But I think if one can find inspiration within a lack of inspiration, anything may be possible.