Writing this sentence has overwhelmed me. As a lifelong stutterer, this feeling isn’t new to me. I don’t know where to begin, even at the beginning. I must be writing to myself. Otherwise, wouldn’t I have a clearer idea of what I want to say? This question makes me wonder whether I should prepare myself a coffee before writing another sentence. I almost wrote: before creating another sentence. I wonder how writing and creating and caffeine are connected in my mind right now. The verb wonder has now appeared three times. What do I desire to know about? Perhaps a possible answer to this question overwhelmed me in the opening sentence. I might desire to discover what feels so threatening that I almost failed to finish the opening sentence. The appearance of the word failed in the previous sentence surprises me. These sentences feel mysterious, and maybe mystery and uncertainty lead me to believe that failure is the only possible outcome in this situation. In other words, I might’ve been convinced before writing the opening sentence that I couldn’t succeed in finishing this paragraph. Some days are like that for me, when failure surprises me from behind, so to speak, before a single sentence has appeared, as if part of me wishes that the page remain blank. Does that same part of me also wish that my mind become a blank? I equate my mind with this paragraph. Maybe I’m afraid that by the final sentence both of them will be blanks. I wish I could believe that more caffeine would solve my creative problems. A possible title comes to me: Fear of Empty Writing or Mind Space. The end has arrived. I wonder whether all of these words have helped me to discover something about myself.