It's About Time

It's about time I wrote something. Why about time? It's a subject like any other. Well no, not like any other. It's a subject, being itself, like itself, whatever that self might be. And so, either way, why not write about it? Unless, of course, you've nothing to say about it. But even then maybe it isn't until in the actual active saying of nothing about it- as opposed to the passive simply not saying it- that you find out you have nothing to say, and until then, not having tried to say something, dwelling in the passive not saying, you had no idea of the nothing of which you had to say- were convinced you had plenty to say. But anyway, I offer no apologies for writing about time, and don't imagine I'm confessing that it turned out I had nothing to say. I was merely speaking generally, about cases in general, and perhaps, for all you know, I had plenty to say.