My kindergarten teacher told my mother there was something wrong with me because I didn't talk.
She thought it was because I couldn't talk; really, it was because I had nothing to say.

I still get like that: I just have nothing I want to talk about.
It doesn't mean nothing is going on in my head; usually, it means there is too much going on in my head.
Talking, unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), does nothing to empty out my head, instead it adds to the noise up there.
So today, again, I have nothing else to say.

Here are a few random pictures about which I have nothing to say (right now):