Thoughts of no sense

I don't know what to write today. I haven't got the urge, if you know what I mean. Nothing is springing forth fully formed, like Athena from my forehead. Of course, I'm not Zeus.

I need to go to a concert, but I don't particularly want to go. I need to do an assignment at the library, but I don't want to put on outside clothes.

It's cold outside today, and it's cold inside my room. My room is always precisely the temperature it should not be; too hot if I'm hot, too cold if I'm cold, and always stifling. 

Some gray days are good days, and some are not. I prefer the sort of fall that makes the sky bluer than seems natural, crispy winds tossing around red-orange leaves with a noisy gust. If it's not going to rain, give me blue skies, please. 

I didn't know what to write, but I tried, I guess.