Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1572: I’m Gonna Wait

Nearly done for the day, and I’ve done an absolutely terrible job of killing time, but that’s how it goes sometimes. Just gonna try and write whatever now. I can’t do that as well as perhaps I could on another day, but gonna try anyway. It’s always worth trying. You should always try where you can, unless there’s a good reason for you to not try. But that’s not something for me to discern. I’ve other things to think about, anyway, so I’m not gonna try to work that one out. Maybe later, however.

I think I’m a bit fried from today. Had very little work to do today, so you think I’d do more writing. That, however, did not happen. Instead of that I’ve just sat here and killed time to the best of my ability. And it was terrible today. I could’ve killed time better by being productive in ways that are not related to work. I had the time and I had little of my job to do, which, don’t get me wrong, is great. However, it’s not what I wanted. Therefore, tomorrow I’ll have to do a better job of doing more with the time that I have.

I know that my boss would be fine with it, so long as I look like I’m working. Today I did not. Today I twiddled my thumbs and stared at a screen and told myself that I’d do more writing than I did. And I didn’t.

So… what do I do now? There are so many other things that I could be saying in this moment and I’m not saying them, and I don’t know where to go from here. I want the day to be over so I can go home and finish the day off, but that’s not happening for another few minutes, which is why I’m writing so why am I even saying this?

Sometimes there really are just days that go on forever, though they also don’t. They are as compressed as they are stretched, and everything happens and nothing happens and I’m left here wondering what is going on and when I’ll get more sleep, if I do indeed get any sleep at all. I’m sitting here, waiting for the day to come to its conclusion and it is taking time still to get there. I’m trying to get to those last few minutes that really are the last few minutes. I’m trying to get there and they seem to elude me, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t speed the time up and it just wants to stretch more and more, and every second is pushing against me, holding me back, rushing and covering my vision and I’m swarmed by the seconds as they fight to keep my day from ending, but there’s nothing left for me to do.

I can’t be bothered fighting against this. It’s too much energy and too much effort, so I’m gonna wait.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:43:35

Fun bit of silliness to end the day on before more writing comes through.

Written at work.

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Masashi Hamauzu: Dust to Dust

One listen, and this is sort of a slow song. It feels slow in how it moves and progresses, and I think that works really well for where it is used. Some of that came through in the writing, and I would have preferred more, but I think the result is okay.

Masashi Hamauzu’s (浜渦 正志) “Dust to Dust” (“色のない世界”) is from Final Fantasy XIII‘s soundtrack, Final Fantasy XIII Original Soundtrack.

I think I spend too much time writing about music from The Final Fantasy series.

I hope you enjoy.

Something pleasant is here, though it’s heavily underscored by a sadness. A voice comes in, almost haunting, the way it floats. And all is gentle, and all is quiet, and everything expands outward, and in this ruinous space is grief and regret. A sad rage.

The pleasantness falls away to what is lost frozen in time, and what remains serves as a reminder for what will not be. The sounds weave themselves around structure and frame, and a sense of grace comes forward, but there’s nothing pleasing about this. This is what once was and what should still be.

The sounds mostly come to an end, leaving bits to shimmer off as they flow away, minimising and carrying a sense of hopelessness, but lingering long enough to push forward, even as the last sound rings out at the song’s end.

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Hitoshi Sakimoto: BioCorp

One listen, and this one was a struggle. I hit a wall within a few words and had to veer away a bit. Still cover the song well enough, but not in the way I’d hoped.

Hitoshi Sakimoto’s (崎元 仁) “BioCorp” (“バイオ公社”) is from Breath of Fire V: Dragon Quarter‘s soundtrack, Breath Of Fire V – Dragon Quarter: Original Soundtrack. The soundtrack was also released as part of Breath of Fire Original Soundtrack Special Box a soundtrack collection of the soundtracks for Breath of Fire I through to V.

I hope you enjoy.

A flowing beat meets strings and bass. They play with angles of smoothness, and a crackling comes in when they descend. Soon that is swept away in the halls and forms of technology flow forward. Flows of progression.

There’s something eerie and cold in all of this. Something uncaring stretches through, and discomfort follows nearby. It’s another place to get through, to move past, and to learn from.

As smooth as the sounds are, a harshness follows closely, and everything feels more and more off. Everything feels more and more unpleasant, as though it is all too clean. The crackling of progress feels a facade driven by lack of consideration, and the structure remains something internally imposing, and stays as such as the sounds fade and the song ends.

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Magic Dirt: Babycakes you Always Freeze me up

One listen. A bit tough this one, but it also felt like it went by really quickly. I don’t think I captured the song as well as I could have. It’s an intense, unnerving bit of music, but describing it as such undersells it. Oh well.

Magic Dirt’s “Babycakes you Always Freeze me up” is from Young and Full of the Devil.

I hope you enjoy.

From silence a sound grows and crackles. It moves and wavers and pulses, and it moves in familiar, yet strange ways. As it continues its motion, other sounds come into play. The sounds move slow. They move eerily. Quiet, lurking almost. Slowly forming, slowly gaining mass.

A frame starts forming in the noise and sounds are attracted to it. They draw closer and closer, and eventually they take the last step and everything is there. Everything is roaring and raging, cutting through, grinding… everything is heavy and full and noisy. A thick, heaving fug engulfs everything. It fills the space and crashes and smothers, and eventually relents a little.

The sounds still drive forward as parts stretch and contort, and interweave in and out, and something spirals out and distorts, and eventually that mass takes over once more.

There’s thrust and pull and howls and screams, and it seems within it all there’s a romance smothered by darkness; by dread and menace and terror, and maybe there’s something that’s familiar and welcoming, too. Maybe something inevitable as the mass seems suspended, holding as it expands and crashes and engulfs everything. The noise, desperate, unrelenting… and eventually it lifts and the percussion seems to slow and the other instruments drag on. The only lyric is uttered: “You always freeze me up”, and then all that remains is that initial sound disappearing into silence, and the song ends.

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Questions for the Morning

I’ve five minutes to spare and I get to sit here and wait for my building to open once more. Have an idea for a bit of fiction but I need to wait as it might take a while. Why not start now? Why not just get it underway? I don’t want to be interrupted.

I’m still listening to Talk talk, though that mostly has to do with enjoying the music that they made, and it’s a quiet morning. A loud morning, but a quiet morning. No music being played behind me, and that’s good. I quote like that.

I’ve eaten and I’m waiting, and in a way I’m waiting for this space to come to its end. Can’t force it. Could stop it now, but that’d be less enjoyable for me. That wouldn’t be in the spirit of things.

Light fulls the area and yet this area remains darkened. This area remains caged in shade, and that helps keep it cool. However, I have to wonder as to how warm these seats get on a hot day. These seats are metal. They feel heavy and durable. They feel like the kind of thing that takes in heat and refuses to let go. I feel like I am, in a way, refusing to let go. However, I will. I said I would and, even though I don’t have to, I do want to. I want to let go and move on, and soon that will happen. Soon I will be able to walk away, and I’ll be happy with that, regardless of how hard it will be.

More noise comes in. The area is waking up. The traffic has grown quiet. This is nice. This is enjoyable. I like this. Good times. Great times, even. Quiet, alone times. Left with my thoughts, my coffee and my rubbish. Left with myself. Time for thinking, or something.

And the traffic picks back up and soon I am to get up and go upstairs. Soon I will sit down and write some more and then I’ll get on with the day. I’ll get on with the getting of the on. I will do my work and then I’ll go home and work some more. That’s what I do. And this morning will be a memory I probably won’t remember. It’ll be part of a tapestry that is crowded and has so much more to have woven into it. And that’s beautiful in a way. It’s also meaningless piffle, but it’s beautiful to me, and it doesn’t really matter outside of this bit of writing.

We craft our lives so easily and thread through so many things into a singular experience, and at the end of it all we remember so much and so little. And what do we leave behind? What is our legacy? What does it even matter? So long as we lived a good life and helped others and tried to leave the planet in a better state than it was in when we started, how much does any of the rest of it matter?

I don’t know and I don’t pretend to know. I just hope and think about these things in a rather surface way, and I try to live in a healthier way than I did yesterday. And I hope that, at the end of it all, I’ll leave things a little better than they were when I was born.

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A bit of Wall and Sky

I took this photo yesterday afternoon shortly after I got home from work. I wanted to capture part of my place’s wall with the sky in it, but I couldn’t at the angle I wanted as there were too many other things visible if I did. I wanted to go for simple, so I had to go for a more severe angle to get what I wanted, which is the below result.

This photo could be seen as having two walls, depending on what you want to consider a wall. Obviously the wall itself, but there’s also the sky, which (along with being viewable as many other things), can be seen as a wall of sorts.

This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week. Margaret of From Pyrenees to Penines hosts this one, and she has chosen the theme of “Walls”.

This challenge is open to all, and I recommend joining in. If want to, check out more information about it here, and include the tag “monochrome-madness” when you share your photo. If you’d prefer not to join in, then at the least check out Leanne’s photography, and what other people submit.

I hope you enjoy.

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C418: Subwoofer Lullaby

One listen and another where I was able to throw myself into the writing. There were a few points of struggle, but I think I did alright in representing the song well enough.

C418’s “Subwoofer Lullaby” is from Minecraft – Volume Alpha, an album comprised of songs used in Minecraft.

I hope you enjoy.

Relaxing sounds. Reducing stress, embracing calm. Embracing the slow, the calm. Looking at taking it easy and going wherever, letting come what may. Those sounds dance around a space that doesn’t seem threatening. That doesn’t seem hostile, and those sounds suddenly pull away.

A flat plane, a wider space, where everything seems small and simple, and dreams drift and waft away, off to somewhere. Off to nowhere in particular, carried by the winds, spreading out, finding new places to plant and grow.

The keys that kicked it off come back and play more gently than before. A bit of strings draw long and those dreams come back after their journey, and everything continues on relaxed. Everything is easy and drifts, and the skies aren’t clear but they’re peaceful and pleasant, and the sounds draw to a pulsing close at the song’s end.

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Andy Summers: A Piece of Time

One listen.

A while ago I listened to the album this song is from and I didn’t find myself getting into it. However, I didn’t get rid of it and instead put it to the side.

I heard a bit of “A Piece of Time” for the first time in a while a few days ago and decided to write about it, hammered it out yesterday, and below is the result. I’m surprised I wrote as much as I did, and I’m glad I did, too.

Whilst I wrote I found themes of memory and loss coming to me. There also was the passage of time and ow things change whether we want them to or not. These are probably obvious, but I felt it worth mentioning.

Andy Summers’ “A Piece of time” is from The Golden Wire.

I hope you enjoy.

A gentle beat kicks in. It has a pulse and it flows, and soon guitar rises up in brief bits. Synth seems to draw long and emotive, and builds an atmosphere. Indeed, this is all a build. It’s building to something, and more percussion here and there, but it remains gentle. Almost like controlled, paced breathing.

The space grows richer in sound. It expands. It widens and deepens, and there could be reflection in this. Something introspective. Thinking of moments as more guitar comes in and rings out also though ripples, as though rain increasing in its thickness, and it disappears. Or doesn’t.

A new sound appears, sort of busy, sort of not, and the percussion increases. It strikes out and strikes loudly, its shape changing. Other sound wafts around and fills out, and some guitar flickers and rises up. And down. It is disconnected and comes in parts, and the sounds grow heavier as the guitar continues its rises and falls. It continues to race, flashing on by.

A return to the main melody and the beat is different once more. That reflection and introspection grows deeper, and there could be something mournful in this. There could be something happy, though coloured by a heaviness.

That guitar that rung out and rippled returns, and it carries something more overtly joyous in it whilst it lasts.

Soon back to the weight, back to the inevitability of time, and how it leaves memories of full experiences to flash on by in an instant. What changes over time, what is left behind. What is gained, and how things change. A dire moment may be just a moment, and may not carry much of anything beyond that initial feeling.

Guitar plays out, plays rapidly. It plays fast and seems to wail. It seems to be searching and looking, and maybe it finds a connection or thread that it feels the need to chase after. In all this emotion, it finds what it seeks, and it goes after it the best it can, and it continues as everything fades away and the song ends.

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One Thousand Word Challenge 248: There’s Always Room for Disappointment

So I’m writing again as I was a bit disappointed in the speed in which I got the last bit of rambling done. I want to write faster and that slow speed just will not do. However, I’m already lagging behind. Maybe I’ve listened to too much relaxed music today. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m writing purely for speed and I’m going at a steady click which is great.However, I am going slow, which is not great. I have no idea as to how many words I’ve already written but I cannot stop as if I do, that’ll take time and time is not what I want to take… even though I’m taking time to do do this and taking your time as you’re reading this.

I’m not good at this stuff.

Still, I have to wonder as to how I am taking time. I have to also wonder as to how I’m giving time. I think about that some of the time and to all of the time. Time is a word I also say a lot.

Time

So anyway, I’m writing. I am communicating and through this is a form of expression. It is an expression of nothing in particular. I write and I’m in an office and all is quiet and that’s okay. Things are good and flowing well, and I’m relaxed. I’m not stressed. Just in a significant amount of pain but it’s getting better. That’s life. So it goes and such it is. And I sit here and I wonder as to what I am doing with my life. I wonder where the meaning comes from interfacing with a computer in order to press buttons and send notes and fix things comes from.

Is it from the action? Is it from being a participant in society, where there are many holes to fill and few people ever seem to fit into any of them? How does my sense of self fit into this? When I press these buttons, what am I furthering? I have questions and this isn’t the place to ask them, but I am asking them. But I keep on going as there are tasks that need doing and that is what has been requested of me.

In the successful completion of these tasks I am provided an income and I can spend it as I see fit, and a lot of that expenditure goes to survival. Funny how that happens. Funny how little things change. The more things change the more they stay the same or so some people think, though there definitely are circular patterns in life and it seems they are inescapable. We just need to make the most of what we can where we can and how we can if we are to see some sort of success within this continual going around the drain but never quiet going down it to something new.

So what am I saying, anyway? Where am I going with this? What purpose is a life if it is lived only for work? Of course I can say that, but am I not also working when I am not working? When I write, am I not working? Am I not staying in a continuous state of processes and doing things when I work on music or a drawing, or a photo? Does work ever stop?

Is the work of the office grey, and is that why we consider work outside of the office – work that we enjoy – much more varied and coloured? Is it solely to do with how we associate drudgery and lack of imagination? There’s a lot of imagination in the office space, and I think this goes ignored more often than it should. Still, there’s a difference between being in a place that often feels cold, regardless of how warm its inhabitants are, and a place where we usually associate with safety and comfort and warmth.

There is a good chance a lot of us associate positive qualities in areas more dangerous than offices and still see offices as being unimaginative, uncreative places that don’t provide comfort or some sort of ease and relaxation simply because we work there and complete obligations for money, whereas in more dangerous spaces, we are there far more willingly and are relaxing in them, so therefore are considered safer and more protective. Either that or we recognise the dangers, but the pressure is different and less oppressive in a way… not that I’m in an oppressive space, but you know. You get the idea.

Maybe it’s in the architecture. Maybe even if we are impressed by where we work, there’s still something in the back of our minds tellings us that a space is hostile to living, even if it is not. Even in the most comfortable of spaces, if we have to work for an income in them, then perhaps we inherently see them as bad and dangours and uncomfortable, and not good for the brain. I wish I knew if this was the case or not, but I don’t. This is not something I know anything about. I can only guess and hope that it leads to me thinking and looking more into it. I have been in my fair share of hostile spaces, however but those were quite obviously hostile. But now I’m not. I’m in a healthier office space now.

So… yeah. The day continues, I continue writing and I continue doing the things that I’m doing. I keep getting through it all, whatever it all is of course, and I’m still writing away. I’m trying to get this done at a speed I’m happy with and I don’t think I will. There’s always room for disappointment and I’m quite good at disappointing myself. Therefore I will continue to do this, but at least I can say I did it my way. I can disappoint myself with my thoughts and I can disappoint myself with my words. But they’re all mine.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:08:28

Went very surface philosophical for some reason. Not sure why. Did it at a decent speed, though.

Written at work.

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One Thousand Word Challenge 247: Hearing a Familiar Album Differently

I can already feel that I am running out of things to say today, though I haven’t said much of anything. I feel a stress in my trying to write, and I feel a tension in my gripping onto whatever I can. However, there still remains plenty to be said, and today I think I’m going to try and go the distance. A lot of distance still to go, however. But I am going to try.

Last night I spent a rather inordinate amount of time hunting for a different version of one of my favourite albums. Realistically, it was the right amount of time. It did feel excessive, however. But it was worth it.

I’m talking about Talk Talk’s “Laughing Stock.

So the version I have, which is the version I imagine a lot of people have, has two of the songs overlap with another. The first is with a brief snippet of the end of “Ascension Day” at the start of “After the Flood”, which, if you’re listening to the latter on its own, leads to it having this really harsh tiny bit of sound that really harms the start of the piece. The second is “Taphead” starting whilst “After the flood” is ending, which is pleasant, don’t get me wrong. It helps create this sense of continuation, as though the songs should be viewed as one piece, but my issue with it is that “After the Flood” doesn’t get to stand on its own, and it’s my favourite song on Laughing Stock, so I want to hear it unencumbered.

And now I can.

So the version of “After the Flood” I had (and still have) is the version I’m most familiar with, and the one I got used to. I got used to that harsh bit of noise, and I got used to “Taphead” being there at the end. And then I found out that there was a version where the songs were more segmented, and I forgot or missed it, and then I realised last night again. I think. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but I ended up going on a hunt last night for the segmented version of Laughing Stock, and I found it.

This search took a while. It took a lot of time and it’s time I’m not getting back. There were other things I needed to take care of but I didn’t, and now I’m here writing about it. I was also worried about that search affecting my sleep. You know, when you end up invested too heavily into something and you need to start getting ready for bed that, by the time you stop and detach, you’re still wound up from whatever it was that you were doing that you don’t have time to settle and so it takes longer to fall asleep. That thing. That’s the thing that I was worried about. Somehow avoided it, though, so I’m happy about that.

But I dug around and acquired myself multiple versions of “After the Flood” to see who had the version I was after. I had to do a lot of searching as most of what I was coming across still had a smidgen of “Ascension Day” at the end. Sure, I could have edited it off, but this I didn’t want to do. I wanted to have the songs as they were; without cutting and reattaching and all that stuff. So I kept on searching. I kept on digging.

It was quite obsessive, this search, but it did end up proving fruitful. I found a version that was its own song, and I listened to its start, and it felt weird. It felt odd to have it clean. I checked the ending, heard no overlap, went back to listening to the start.

The way “After the Flood” started felt a bit too sudden to me, and I know it was due to not being what I was used to. It still felt wrong, however. For a little while. Eventually it sunk in and I got the rest of the album, and I was happy. I was happy to have a different version of Laughing Stock as it meant I could hear it in a different way.

I’m listening to Laughing Stock right now and I’m enjoying it. Or rather, I’m experiencing it, believing I’m connecting with it. I’m hearing it in a different way, and it remains immersive to me. It’s still saying something to me, and maybe it’s saying it better.

I do like me a good bit of continuous music, but sometimes I prefer continuous pieces to be disconnected. So long as that thematic connection is still there, then does it matter? I don’t know. This is just sometimes how I prefer to hear some things. Sometimes I prefer other ways of hearing. Of listening and experiencing. For Laughing Stock, I prefer the former as the pieces seem to connect without being connected. They flow into each other without that overlap, but they allow themselves to be viewed individually and you get all these different tones and varying colours and shapes, and textures too. You hear all these varying moods, and it continues on until its end, finding fullness, finding sparseness and finding rest.

So I’m here, at work, enjoying Talk Talk and I’m finding myself running out of things to say, and in a way I’m glad because I get to sit here and write and think more about an album I like. It’s an album that still feels mysterious to me as it has so much to offer. It’s an album of music in the truest sense, and it carries itself well, after all of these years.

Right now it enters my ears, and I’m hearing things I haven’t heard before. I’m still getting things from it. How lucky am I? How good is this? How often does someone get to say they’re hearing something on one of their favourite records that they hadn’t before?

The time it took to write one thousand words: 17:51:45

Bit slower than I hoped and perhaps I relied on repetition a bit too much. I had to think a bit more for this one and that thinking works, but this could’ve been a shorter thing.

Written at work.

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