One Thousand Word Challenge 253: Rambling About Wondering

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

It’s a little cold and that’s okay. Starting this bit of writing with that particular wording probably isn’t okay, but it being a little cold is.

It’s a quiet day. It’s another day spent chipping away at whatever and hoping for the best and all of that fun stuff. Sitting here at lunch, falling in line, going through the motions. Going through the processes. I’m getting there. I’m getting to the end of it, or I’m not getting to the end of it. I don’t even know what “it” is, in this context. Maybe it’s just a reference to life. Who knows. I don’t, I just threw it in there.

I’m thinking about nothing, or rather, I’m thinking about not much in particular. Just the process of writing and being alive and all that. In a few hours I’ll take off, head on home, go and rest. I’ll be good. I’ll be fine. I’ll even be a little bit exhausted. This is a good way to be. Or it’s not. It’s just what it is, really.

Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing myself far more than I should. I don’t know if I am, but sometimes I feel I am. I’m trying to do something rather silly, really. I’m trying to get through words and sentences and I’m trying to create a really big mess, and I’m good at doing that but it’s also really tiring. It’s strenuous work, doing all this going on about whatever, but it is a form of work. It’s a form of process.

When I think these things, I don’t really know what it is that I’m thinking, I guess. I guess I’m thinking about getting to the end and hoping that there’s something that comes forward among it all. I guess I’m hoping to be able to say that I’ve done what I set out to do, but I don’t know if I am really hoping for that. I do know that I still enjoy writing, even if it is a struggle in places.

I’m wondering about when the last time I made an observation was, and not just one where I start talking about looking after each other and the environment, which both I think are important, don’t get me wrong, but rather, something that means something, even if it’s really mundane. I wonder about this, and I wonder if, perhaps, I’ve nothing left to offer, or if I ever had anything to offer at all.

I can remember a time when I was a bit more chipper than I am now. Things were different, I was in a different position in life and I was younger. Now I’m not as young as I was then and I still am chipper sometimes, but I am also very much elsewhere. I’m looking inward to try and go outward, if that makes sense. It probably does but I think it doesn’t, but I also hope it does.

Layers.

So… yeah. Sitting here, trying to live my life. Feeling isolated, feeling alone. Wondering about myself. I have to do a lot of hard thinking. I have to think about where I went wrong, or if I did indeed go wrong at all. I have to think about a lot of things. What do I offer to the world? What do I offer to my community? Am I actually a good person? Do I think I’m good? I don’t know, I just think that I’m trying. Probably better to think that I’m trying and then try and keep trying rather than think I’m a good person and be an asshole. I hope.

I do wonder at what point I tapped out and ran out of things to say. I wonder if I’ve ever had any relevance to anyone, and I know I have, but here I mean strictly in terms of writing. I don’t know if I have or have no, and I can only wonder more. But at the same time, does it matter? Does it matter if I have been relevant to someone? Does it matter if someone has ready my writing and felt something? In a way it probably does, but if I’m writing for the enjoyment of writing, then it shouldn’t.

I’ve published so much of this rambling, so surely it must mean that I’ve wanted it read. I’ve put it out there and people have been able to look at what I put out there, or rather put here. They’ve a choice to engage, and if they have, then maybe they have gotten something out of it all, and that probably does matter to me. Up until a point, anyway.

Perhaps a lot of us yearn for some sort of validation external to us more than we let on, and maybe I do. I have to admit that much. I’ve spent a lot of time not thinking or feeling like I’ve wanted it, but right now, I think I could be wrong in that thinking. Perhaps wrong is not the way to describe it. Perhaps it should more be that I was unaware in my thinking.

Maybe it’s due to how close to the end of this blog everything is that has me wondering more about this stuff. It probably is. That and a bit of a low set of feelings coming in. But I do wonder and I keep wondering. What can I say about all of this? What can I do about all of this? This is a towering work of messy thoughts and messy use of words. That’s… all there is to it, but it still means something to me. At the very least I can accept that. But I don’t know if any of it was worth it or not… at least to someone who isn’t me.

I know that Ewe has read a lot of this stuff and that’s something I’m happy about. It means something to someone else, at least, so maybe it’s all worth it.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 13:16:68

Good speed. Writing is a bit of a mess, but it’s how everything was coming out.

Written at work.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1580: Life on Hold

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

Here I am, sitting on hold. Sitting and waiting, trying to get things sorted. This looks like it’ll be a short hold, but it could also be a long hold. Seems like it’s a holding day. Or time. Or whatever.

What I get to listen to is “Opus No. 1”, and so not much has changed there. It still exists. It still floats around. I still get to hear it. What a piece of music. So heavily ingrained in a culture and style and way of dong things, and so often not thought of. Now I get to live with it. I get to experience it as I’m living my life on hold. It goes on forever and loops around. It’s broken up into bits and pieces and never allowed to finish. Its spell is disrupted by a voice that repeats the same thing every time and everything is circular. Nothing finishes. Nothing gets to go far.

It’s easy to end up living life on hold, and that’s something you want to desperately avoid as much as possible, but sometimes you just can’t. Sometimes it just happens and it all just goes on, and then you see that you start to age. You start to get older. All your friends are getting married and having kids or not having kids, and you’re there on the phone, waiting to be connected to someone. Waiting to get through so you can discuss whatever issue it is that needs to be fixed, but you need to get the right person as you’ve spent so much of your time on hold that you’re now on some sort of legacy product that you cannot be forced off of, but has been discontinued for whatever reason. But you can’t et through to anyone anyway as the lines are busy.

You try to go to sleep but you can’t, so you stay awake and soon your bags get so big that you can carry your groceries in them. Lethargy takes over, and energy seems to be something you once understood, and perhaps had a fondness for, but is something that was left behind long ago. Or rather, it left you behind as you’ve been a sedentary part of the furniture for far longer than you can remember. Time keeps ticking away and “Opus No. 1” is never allowed to finish as it gets interrupted by a voice that tells you that the lines are busy and someone will be with you soon, and then it starts again. Did it even get halfway? You’re not sure. Maybe it did, but you’re so used to hearing a snippet of it that you can’t even be sure if that’s the whole song or not. Maybe it is the whole song and anything beyond what you’ve heard on loop for decades is just a construction of your mind. A fabrication borne from a yearning for something more than this life you’re stuck in and can do little about; a life lived on hold.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:59:97

I wasn’t on hold for to long, thankfully. Got this bit of writing out of it and that makes me happy as this was fun to write.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1579: I Am the Clock

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

Alright, just trying to squeeze another spewing of thoughts in before I start work for the day, and there is not much to squeeze in at this juncture. Maybe I’ve juiced all the juice out of the fruit or something. Don’t now and I don’t need to know.

The barrel has been scraped. There is no bottom left. It’s just an open hole, and now the barrel is one of those beads, but larger. Much larger. you could fit it on a very thick rope, and that’d be neat. That’d be cool. Jewellery for a giant.

Still, there could be more that could be said about many different things. There could be plenty to spin and turn around and twist and do all of those things that we like to think that we do but don’t actually do, and so therefore… yeah. It all goes and goes it all does. And therefore, this is the way of doing things.

Anyway, where was I?

So yeah, a good few minutes before I start doing much of anything. A good few minutes to get into the gritty of the nitty and try to find the relation among the relation among all the other things that I throw out there. Surely there must be a thread of happiness among it all, and surely there must be a great big thread of sadness, too. So I race and I fight the clock. I battle the clock. I am the clock.

Oh god, I am the clock.

So anyway… yeah. Or nah. Or yeah nah nah yeah nah. Yeah. Yeah nah.

It’s in these situations where I must recognise the limitations of my excess, I feel, as I am incredibly limited and my excess is… well, it’s not astounding, let’s put it that way. But I keep going as I always have. I keep pushing on and fighting for a better load of bad, and I keep on contributing to the great deep pool of waste, and so on as life goes on. I think about what it all means and if I’ve meant anything at all, and the answer probably is a great big resounding no. However, I do think that I can find what it is that I want to find among it all, and that’s enough “deep” thinking for one day.

If anything, this is all a clear indicator that my thoughts have been a significant mess for a while, and no amount of throwing words together in undesirable orders will make much of anything in that regard different. Perhaps if I just wrote instead of continually spewing, things would be different. There’d be a body of work that was strong. I’m sure that when it comes to the end, I’ll look back at all of this and go “Yeah, I was pretty messed up and not handling it at all, despite what I think”. Either that or something along the lines of “It’s amazing how far one can go with boredom”.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:09:21

With this one I had a bit of time on my hands. I was waiting for things to happen so I could do things and had to wait. Threw myself into the writing and… yeah.

Written at work.

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One Thousand Word Challenge 252: Underjoyed

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

Need to get in the zone and I need to think about what I’m putting forward. I’ve just taken a look at my drafts and the amount I have has gone up, and that’s not good. I need it to go down. I can get it down, but it’s going to take a lot of work.

There’s about a month left and now the stress is starting to set in. All the stress and pressure, and all the laziness I’ve expressed and exhibited, and I can get everything wrapped up in a month. I can, but it’s going to be tight. It’s going to be tough. But I can do it and I will do it… so long as I allow myself to do it.

No rest over the next month. No downtime. Just continual production. Continual creation. Continual expressing of nothing that needs to be expressed. That is what I will do. That is what I am good at doing. I will continue to do it and I will do it merrily and with some sort of jubilant resignation to the fact that I will probably have another meltdown before the end of it all. But I can do it and I will do it and I will get there.

I remember my time at university, studying. Studying, working a lot and maintaining a social life. It was tough. It was rough. It was not the most brilliant thing I have ever done, but that’s not saying much. I remember it being a slog. A real charge through frustration and annoyance and I was melting down quite a lot. Sitting there, being rough and coarse with the people around me. Eventually I got through it all, and to be honest I was relieved. Now I sometimes find myself thinking about going back. I probably won’t.

The reason why I mention this is that getting through all of that was much tougher than what I am about to do. This will still be tough. This is still going to take a lot of work, but I can do it. But do I want to do it?

I think the answer is no. I think that a big part of me either wants to stop right now, or just wants to continue with this space. But I can’t. I can’t for my own health and general function. It has gotten in the way of so many things in my life, or rather I have let it get in the way of so many things in my life. It has probably served as a coping mechanism for far more things than I care to even think of. Probably. I don’t know. I have so many thoughts and none of them go in many  directions, but I keep having them. The same things circling around, swirling, trying to take precedence and getting that focus for a brief moment before being flung away by whatever is forcing its way in more than whatever else is forcing its way in. And so on and so forth, and it continues on and I just deal with it all the best that I can.

I think, also, I just feel tired. Twelve months of loss and pain and misery and all that, and I’m still standing which is great. I’m still going strong. I still grieve and I still hurt, but I’m getting through it all. The rolling of the coasting has been pretty severe, but I’ve survived and I’ve kept going, so what does it all matter how severe it has been? But it does matter, and so does this and so does everything else that I do, even if it doesn’t matter. In some way it does. In some way it all does.

So I’m sitting here and I’m trying to make the most of the time that I am fortunate to have. I’m trying to make the most of what I have and how I have it, and I’m getting there. I’m getting through everything and that’s great. I just need to keep on going. Need to keep on working through everything and powering through. I can get there. I always make it in the end. I’ll make it to the end of this end, too, and then I’ll be done. I’ll move on and spread my wings by spreading myself further. Thinning myself out and going in too many directions at once. It’ll be fantastic.

I’ll burn out harder than anyone else has ever burned out before me. They will then see that there are no limits to the stress and misery one can inflict upon themselves, and then who will get the last laugh? Then who will be the one standing at the end of it all, going “Well, you told you so”? I don’t know who it will be, but I will say to them “I told me so?”, and then there will be some confusion and a bit of arguing and all those fun things. All those things that keep the spirit and the soul moving in tandem, and I’ll be underjoyed. A great way to be.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, beating myself over the head with pain and misery, and then misery and pain.

But more seriously, I think I can get everything nicely wrapped up, if a bit messily. I don’t think it will happen and I’m worried about the continual piling on more things that I’m doing to myself, but so long as I keep going and stick to a notion of a plan, I am sure that I will get there. I am sure that I’ll get through whatever it is that I need to get through, and I’m sure that I’ll get to the end of this all and I’ll be okay. I’ll feel some relief.

I am worried about letting go as much as I’m worried about reneging and continuing. I’m sure I will let go, but who knows with these things.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:10:47

Decent speed, serious writing. Nothing about this one sticks out much to me, and maybe it’s due to being just an anxiety writing, I guess.

Written at work.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1578: The Game of Waiting

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

So now I am playing the game of waiting, though it’s not a game so much as it is just waiting. Spending time, killing time, waiting for anything to happen. Waiting for the wheels to flip and the tables to sink, and waiting for the stone to turn gray, washed of its mineral elements… though I guess that if it were, that would mean it would also probably have disintegrated. Look, just imagine a rock that had colour to it and the colour has been washed away by millennia of rain, and it’s still a rock in rock form rather than a fine grainy thing that has probably been blown and scattered by the wind so as to be subsumed by the earth once more, slowly cycled down and further broken down, then eventually, after however long, brought back to the surface in a different configuration to how it once was. Just imagine that.

So anyway, I am waiting. I’m trying to find the time to kill the time, but there is very little that I can do. I am stuck here, waiting. I can hear the low hum of air conditioning, and it seems pervasive in a way. It is pervasive, but it’s just background noise. Continuous, adding everything and adding nothing. The sound is as much furniture in this space as the chair I am currently sitting on.

There’s a stillness and quiet, though it’s office quiet. The sound of chatter before outside silence. The pressing of keys and the clicking of a mouse. The clock moves rapidly and moves at a set pace, and nothing changes as everything changes. Everything keeps moving and nothing moves, and everything is as it was five minutes ago, and will never be the same as it was five minutes ago.

It’s all stillness. All frozen in time. The oxygen atoms hang in space, hardly disturbed. My eyes move from keyboard to screen to keyboard to screen, making sure that I am typing what I want to type. Everything flows and folds, and everything remains as it once was.

I think I might be bored.

I wonder how things will progress from here. There are a few hours left in the day, but there aren’t many hours left in the day. Everything seems against itself, but nothing moves and nothing changes. A small fridge sticks out, the clock moves, I sit here. I sit here and I think about the space, and I continue to wait. I continue to bide my time, hoping for change, finding none. Finding it all, but not the change that I am after. I am after things that involve progress, and the change that comes is not the progress I am after. And it’s all here and all the same, and I get older and find myself slipping away into a grand nothingness, and that’s fine by me. I’m still tethered to this seat, and once action happens, I’ll be back in the room to get started.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:01:60

This one was a bit more fun to write than the one prior, and I think that’s good. A little bit of removing the weight of sadness.

Written at work.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1577: Loneliness Rambling

Posted on March 17, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

So I started writing this thing about loneliness as I do feel a bit lonely at the moment. It was not a happy writing and it was not something I wanted to write. I didn’t even feel compelled to write it, even though that is what was coming forward. And so I scrapped it and now I’m writing this. I’m writing in a space where I am writing about whatever it is I’m writing about. I’m writing about this and that, and I feel lonely and isolated, but I’m going to keep on writing and I’m going to push against this feeling.

Sometimes, I feel, there is a need to push against that which might encase us. Sometimes you need to look at how to step away from whatever it is that you’re feeling. You need to let go, move on and go from there. Go to wherever lies ahead. Go to the good things and the other bad things, too. And right now that is what I am trying to do, but I don’t know if I can actually do it. I don’t know if I can actually push against and walk away from this loneliness, and so I think I might have to sit with it and hope for the best. Hope it all passes and then I get to go to wherever from there.

It’s not a long day. It feels quite compressed, in fact. I don’t know how or why, and I feel I might need to go for a walk and stretch my legs, and see if I still feel the same once I get back. I don’t know. I’m full of uncertainty and conflicted thoughts, and I want to go back to bed and rest. I want to hide from the world for a while, and just disappear, and yet I yearn for comfort. I yearn for touch, and I yearn to not be writing in this manner.

There’s a kind of blandness that is washing over everything, and I’m feeling myself detach from that which is around me. I’m feeling more and more like a spectator rather than a participant, and I’m feeling like I’m just disappearing. Going away, becoming nothing. Feeling everything, and isolated from being able to talk to people about it.

It’s becoming all miserable again.

I don’t want to do this misery writing. I just want to get on with my day. Two years ago I was incredibly stressed and worn out, and then a little under two years ago I was happy. I was elated. I felt blissful about things, and then it all went away last year. I thought I was doing better, but I’m not. I feel lonely, and I know that right now it’s just me feeling down about things, but it still hurts. It still stings, and it’s not great.

With that all being said, I still feel compelled to keep pushing and weathering this. This will pass, and tomorrow will always be new.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:34:72

I’m a bit behind so you’re going to see another influx of uploading.

This one, I was hoping to not sink into the sadness but that’s what happened. I tried to at least end on a less downbeat note and it kind of worked, kind of didn’t.

Written at work.

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Open Space at the Dunes

Posted on March 16, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

Whilst trying to come up with the title for this post I got an idea for a photo. I’ll probably forget the idea at some point, but I’ve squirreled it away. Makes me happy. Anyway, this is a photo of sand dunes and I like the space. I like the openness. I especially like the sense of being away from urban construction, as being away from all that stuff helps me relax.

This is my submission into the three hundred-and-eighty-ninth Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The theme for this one is “Time to Relax“.

The host of the Lens-Artists challenges cycles weekly between the following people:

Tina

Patti

Ann-Christine aka Leya

John Steiner

Sofia Alves

Anne Sandler

Egídio

Ritva

Beth

This one is curated by Anne. The next one is curated by Egídio.

I recommend joining the community and participating in the challenges. They’re pretty straightforward, allow room for interpretation, and provide a good way to think about photography in general. If not, however, then at the very least you should check out what others submit to the challenges.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1576: First Day of Another Contract

Posted on March 16, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

It’s another day and this building is filling with people, and I need to kill some time. Feels weird not starting at eight in the morning, but today I don’t.

Today I feel old and tired, and perhaps that is because I am tired. I was hoping to feel young and innocent and excited about everything, and this morning I lack colour. I lack excitement. Maybe I need more coffee. I don’t know. I do know I need to stay awake for a while. Oh, the joys.

But I’m back in a familiar building doing familiar things. I’m sitting here and I’m typing away, and I’m hoping for a smooth day. Don’t know if it will be smooth, but I’m hoping. I’m hoping and I’m staying awake, and I’m going to get through it as I would any other day of work, though with less work. Or more work. Yet to find out. Yet to discern.

It will be a day like any other that involves working, and I’ll get through it as I always do. I’ll get through it, I’ll stay awake, I’ll be as pleasant as I can be. I’ll just keep going, and keep going is what I will do. Not much choice but to move forward. Not much choice other than to face the hours with a sense of dignity and respect, and kindness. We should always be kind where we can, and today I am wanting to be kind. I am choosing to be kind.

I can feel myself struggling to be awake already. But it’s almost the afternoon. Less than four hours away. I can feel myself reaching for it. I can feel myself reaching through time so as to pull myself through it all, and pull myself to lunch. I am pushing past all events and past everything that may restrict me. That may hold me back. I am forcing myself through ripples and walls and cascades, and I am slowly reaching forward in order to pull myself through. In order to pull myself to whatever lies ahead, and then I will get there and enjoy my lunch, then pull myself to the afternoon. Day is over. Done. And I was barely aware for any of it as I barely existed for any of it.

I think I have some hesitation about what lies ahead, and I think I need to think more about where I’m going in life. I need to start trying to prioritise certain things. Health, primarily. But that’s something that can wait for another day. That’s something that lies far ahead of me, and it’s also right here. It’s right here with me, and I’m rambling about things again.

Today is the first day of another contract and I’m tempered about how I feel, I guess. This is okay. This could be much worse. I’m not feeling it, but I’m getting there. I don’t know.

I guess I’m just tired and in dire need of a very long holiday.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:33:81

Happy with the speed. Could be better, could be worse. Is fine enough. Bit loose in the writing. Concise and loose and rambling, so not concise.

Written at work.

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Austin Wintory: Reclamation

Posted on March 16, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

One listen and from what I remember, I was feeling more able to write with this bit of writing than I was the previous one. It still was a struggle in parts, but I feel this one is more smooth and better represents the song it covers.

Austin Wintory’s “Reclamation” is from Journey, the soundtrack for Journey.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Relief and release upon strings, but only for a moment. Something sharpened for a moment, then sound gently wraps and spreads at the same time, settles, settles, settling into a more comfortable position, carrying doleful tones and shivering discomfort, lowering further, lowering further.

Coming to a rest for a brief moment before rising again and pulling away. The sounds grow a little more gentle here, but again only for a moment. They start blooming and expanding, and they are just heavy. Just weighted, dramatically sweeping, carrying toward a point where they stop and the song ends.

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Austin Wintory: The Crossing

Posted on March 16, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

One listen, and this one was a bit tough. I feel I could have written more as this doesn’t say enough about the song.

Austin Wintory’s “The Crossing” is from Journey, the soundtrack for Journey.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Uncertainty and danger spread out and enclose, but there’s some space among a dire situation. Resolve pushes forward; resolve helps see the way through. Threads wrap themselves around, protecting, cocooning, but that which could prevent progress lurks close. It’s never too far, and things grow more precarious.

Forward, ever looking forward, and trying to reach a goal, despite all the danger. Despite all the risk, and the only choice is to keep going at the song’s end.

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