One Thousand Word Challenge 236: Pressing Against Time

Posted on February 8, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

And so the day continues on. The afternoon, we are here. We are here in the afternoon, feeling time. Pressing against time. Trying to fight time with time in order to relate more time. Problem is that it just keeps on getting away from me.

I look at a dog and the dog has its mouth open. Not the whole way; just enough. It looks confused. It walks away. It seeks knowledge. It seeks confirmation of its thoughts. It wonders and as it wonders it wanders. It wanders into darkened halls and surfaces covered in fabric. It walks across the fabric, and when the fabric ends the ground turns cold. Where the fabric is, the ground is warm. It wanders and it walks with a specific pattern of steps. It keeps on going. It goes not where it knows, but it knows it will get to where it will. That is the knowing of the dog, and this dog knows not what it doesn’t know.

Beyond that, this is a space with walls. There is a window and there is light coming in. It is bright and dull, and everything is defined. There is shape; there is edge. There is everything and nothing, and goes together in the way that it does in order to form what it will. Everything makes sense. Light reflects off water and in that reflection is the shape of what is not water. What is near it and what is solid. What is able to picked up in its surface, and it tells of a truth. An idea of the truth and memory, and it tells of what we can see and how we see it, and all continues on and it continues on in the way that everything is as endless as it is limited. Such is the way of things. Such is the way of life. How it goes, where it goes and where everything will be when it must.

Does any of this matter? Does any of this that I am experiencing make a difference to anything at all? I am writing in a way I haven’t before, but it’s all the same. All pressing against time, trying to find more of it. Trying to get to the end of everything, trying to seek what I want the most and trying to remember why everything started. Trying to let go in the worst way possible. Trying to move on. I am able to witness and experience so much, and so little of it will last in my memory. So much of it will become a blur, and this is true of all things, really. We only remember so much. We make our highlight reels.

Right now I am enjoying this moment. I am writing in a manner that could best be described as stressed, but I am enjoying this moment. It will be folded and pressed into other things, and in a sense that will find a way to make use of more time. I might remember the ideas and feelings and some of the details, and I’ll remember it at length within a second. The memory will buy more time, but it won’t give more time. And maybe, just maybe that;s okay. There are worse things out there.

The dog is around, but it is gone. It is here but it is elsewhere. It rests, knowing now what it does and does not know, and it sits and rests and it waits. It waits for a moment to get back up and roam once more, and it waits for this residence to be emptied of human life, for it will also leave at that time. The dog waits for joy. It waits for experience. It waits for fun, and fun is what will be provided, assuming that is what the dog wants to engage in.

I sit here and I also wait. I wait for this bit of writing to end so that I can leave this place, if only temporarily. I will be outside. I will be outside with this dog and I will be outside with my partner, and the days are young, and the years wait ahead. They wait to gain experience, to be shaped by the passing time, by things moving on and moving to wherever they may, and I will grow older. I will grow older, and maybe I will reflect more upon my life and time. Maybe I will wonder about where things went and how they went, and I will wonder. Did I make the right choice? Did I do the right thing? I don’t know. I will look out a window, and I will see what I will see, and all those details will be ones I’ve seen before, and in all of that I will see something as familiar as I will see new, and I will reflect.

I won’t reflect like water, but I will reflect. I will think and I will feel as I feel at the time. And then, maybe, I will get on with things. I will get on with my life and in getting on with my life, that will be that, I suppose. The pressing against time won’t matter so much, if at all. Finding more time won’t be the issue, but rather, making the most of what I have. That is what I’ll need to do.

We squander time when we have the easiest use of it, and we try to make the most of it when we no longer can. Or at least, some of us do. Some don’t. I think about the use of time. I think about the damage wrought, and I think about where I am now. There is so much, and very little. And it’s all okay. The dog doesn’t think about time (as far as I’m aware), and it gets on with its life. It searches through spaces and it finds its answers. It lives life to the fullest.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:03:52

This… I don’t know where this came from. I don’t know how it came from me. It’s messy and I… yeah. I think I was trying to be dramatic about the dog. Then I started thinking about things.

Written in Killara.

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Tomoyuki Hamada, Satoshi Miyashita, Chamy: Track 08

Posted on February 8, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

One listen.

I heard this song a few weeks ago, found myself surprised that it was used in a fishing game, then remembered that music of this kind of sound and feel is often found in places you wouldn’t normally consider. It’s part of why I like digging into game soundtracks; there’s a lot of excellent music to find there, and plenty of interesting ways to hear how sound is used. Of course there’s plenty of stuff that is forgettable or boring or bland, but that’s pretty normal for music in general. You have to do a bit of digging.

Anyway, I went in, wrote what I felt made sense. It’s a beautiful, tranquil bit of music that has this undercurrent of sadness and I tried to capture that. As I listened I started thinking more about other things and the song faded out before anything got too complex / deep / introspective, and quite clearly that came through in what I was writing.

Tomoyuki Hamada (濱田智之), Satoshi Miyashita (宮下智) and Chamy’s (aka Masayoshi Ishi [伊師正好]) “Track 08” is from Reel Fishing: Wild aka Fish Eyes: Wild in Japan. There was no soundtrack of the game released and I don’t know if this was composed by a combination of the aforementioned composers, or just one. This track could’ve been composed by someone else who worked on sound for the game. It could’ve been done specifically as T’s Music, a music production company. Also, there’s no known official name for the song, but it is two minutes and twenty seconds long, if you ever want to seek it out.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Soft, perhaps melancholic sound settles gently. Guitar plays around it, and so do keys, though in a different way. They all find a note to settle on before commencing once more. Shining, shimmery, sun glistening upon a surface, and all is pleasant, but there is that melancholia there. It does seem to lift a little, then come back in states of what seems to be a question.

Everything starts again, carrying mood. Carrying calm joy, carrying relaxation, carrying excitement, and carrying sadness. Carrying it forward, asking questions about life, about time, about what is and what should be, and the thoughts continue, getting further as everything fades out and the song ends.

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Monopot: Sundried

Posted on February 8, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

One listen.

Unfortunately my mind started drifting part of the way through. I stayed on course but I think it’s clear that I was struggling in spots.

Monopot’s “Sundried” is from Something Is Like Nothing Was.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Something hoots in the distance, then guitar rises, and other sounds come here and there. Light percussive, dark percussive and the guitar almost seems like it’s bringing mystery. Then more percussion, seemingly more structured, and other guitar comes in. That other bobs up and down, and the first is more frequent, and it’s all in this quiet, darkened space. A space of still air.

It’s a slow movement and maybe the space opens a bit. But it still feels stark. Tense. Coiled a bit. Stressed. And that first guitar has changed, or maybe it’s a different one. It embraces a bit of roughness, flickers, slows, then gets a bit cleaner, or at least seems cleaner and brushes lightly. It’s all tense and tensing, and the percussion changes, and everything keeps moving slow. There are some quick moment, but overall this is not. This is more about the creep.

Suddenly the guitar comes out raw, unpolished, and fine and melodic, and it picks up and crashes down, and the space opens up and seems brighter. And then it suddenly goes back to what was before, and everything seems a bit more harsh. A bit more stark and unrelenting, and something pulsing comes in, stays monotonous. That first guitar is starting to get harsh again; starting to get ragged, fraying, and it builds, and the percussion also does, and it all pulls back, and the creeping continues.

And once more everything comes out in melody. Everything comes out and the guitar picks up and crashes down, and it’s all waves and some sort of relief and joy, or maybe it’s just as much sadness. It’s excited and calm, and it finds its last moment, stops a little cleaner, and that monotonous pulse is all that is left to fade out as the song ends.

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Draining

Posted on February 8, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

A good few weeks ago now, There was something about seeing water go down the kitchen sink drain that grabbed my attention. I think it may have been the excess coffee I was pouring down and the way it and some of the remaining grounds moved with the water. Tried to get some of the water flowing before putting in grounds, with the below being one of the results.

I really love water, and I love thinking about how it flows and moves. I love watching how it reacts to objects, the way it breaks and coalesces. I want to understand it in a scientific way, but also in a way that comes from watching it over time.

This is my submission into the three hundred-and-eighty-fourth Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The theme for this one is “What Astonishes You“.

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 Beth. The next one is curated by Ritva.

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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One Thousand Word Challenge 235: The Salmon Waits

Posted on February 7, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

It has been a day. It has been a weekend. It has been a period of time in which I existed and I am continuing to exist in this present moment. I am trapped within a parcel of time. I am trapped within an eternity. Not what I’m writing about, really.

Don’t know what I’m writing about. Just throwing words together and seeing what sticks. There are a lot to get through and I am here, and I am there, but mostly here. I am here and I sit here and I write, and I do the churning. The getting out of the way. The working toward conclusion.

I am wondering how many words I can churn out at this moment. Have waited a bit late to start on much of anything, but it has been a productive day. And now I write, and I write without intent, and I write as a messy mess person writing a mess messily. That’s what I do and do it I will., and do it now I will. I will my will to write and so write I will, and I need to make sure it is messy.

You get the point.

So anyway, I was saying that I was gonna write and I am writing about how I was gonna write but I need to find a way to fight instead. Yes, I must fight the tyranny of quality and keep bringing all the crap that I can bring. I need to do that so as to be able to do the other things that I so desperately need to do when the sun rises from the pits of despair and into the armpit of despondency. It’s not a pleasant place, but there’s always a way to the nearest coffee shop where the coffee is bog-standard and overpriced, and the line goes on forever because everyone thinks it’s the best coffee out there, but you know it isn’t. You know it isn’t and yet you have to wait for it still, and it’s the most frustrating bit of your day because you stand in this line and it goes nowhere, and you’re only standing there because all the other coffee in the area is significantly worse and more expensive, but you end up getting out of the line because you need to go to work and that salmon isn’t going to hitch a ride on its own, and you’ve no idea why you’ve been paired with a fish, but that’s the way it goes, sometimes. Sometimes that’s the way the toad splays against the window, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Suppose you could, however. Suppose you could…

And now there are all these complications in life and you just want your daily dose of forty cigarettes in one go, but you can’t even get that. You’re deprived of that which you desire and so you go to work and your eyes are watering because those onions you attempted to pickle are yet to pickle, but they’re still releasing their things that make your eyes water and sting, and what can you do about that? Nothing, and why are you attempting to pickle onions at your work desk, anyway? Don’t you have better things to do with your time, super trooper? Don’t you have places to be and people to see and hats to wear? Do you not have to deal with that salmon and all the annoyances that it provides for you? Something tells you that it hasn’t been filing its documents and filling out its reports, and you wonder why you even bother because something stinks, and it’s not the salmon. You wish it was as that would mean the locus of your problems would actually be so, but it just isn’t, and you  just want to go home.

And yet, you can’t as you need the sun to set into the kneecap of justice, but it’s still hanging around the armpit, and boy howdy it sure is a sweaty day. Who turned off the air? Who said that was allowed? Who knows, but it aggravates me, let me tell you. And let me tell you that I understand that people want to go home, but there are many levers to pull and many pulleys to lever in order to get the leverage required to get to the top, and it’s a long way to the top if you want to get there, so you best get going so you can get there in a manner one would consider as timely. Otherwise, what are you even doing? Where are going and how are you getting there? It’s these questions that one must ask when they are at their desk, for their desk is their future and their future is not set in stone. Unless it is a stone desk. Bad luck then, I suppose.

But suppose that there is no going away from everything. Suppose that everything no longer exists and all is dark. You still have to get home and that salmon is waiting there, waiting for you, and it was always waiting. Waiting in the dark, waiting for you  to make one wrong move, and it knew it would happen. It knew it would come sooner or later, and it knew that all it had to do is wait. You had no idea. You didn’t suspect a thing, and even if you had, you’d not pin it on the salmon.

You were hoodwinked. Deceived. Had no idea that this fish would be so slippery. So tricky. So able to deflect all suspicion with the laziest of ease. You had no idea and now it was there, waiting, about to make its move. All it had to do was wait for you to exit into the abyss, and that was it. And now it was happening, and you walk out, and you see it, and you’re so utterly shocked, and it says “Hey, have thirty percent off”.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:54:63

Absolute trash, and I’m so very happy with it.

Written at Killara.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1560: Venting About Job Hunting

Posted on February 6, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

Currently pushing time a lot. I’m meant to be leaving to head off to my partner’s place with a detour to hang with a friend, and I’m meant to be leaving very soon. I’ve most of everything ready, but I’ve got to wait for some files to finish transferring and it’s going to take a while. But maybe I can still make the train I need to catch, and maybe I can cycle to the station I need to cycle to in time still. I don’t know. I hope.

It’s a dire time once again. Once again I’m hunting for work and once again there isn’t much time. I’m sure I’ll pull through, but this just isn’t fun. This isn’t enjoyable. I am tired of the trying. I’m tired of continuing on. I’m getting tired of doing much of anything. I feel incredibly, utterly burned out, and I just want some time to breathe, but I don’t get that. I have to keep trying to hop from contract to contract and I have to keep on trying. It’s just such a tiring process and I’m really over it. I have some stability in my life now, sure, but I just really want some work stability. I don’t want to have to keep on worrying about if I’ll have a job or not, because worrying about that is killing me.

My periods of stability have been fleeting and I have to keep fighting for them, and they never last. Of course they never last, but I’m tired of the carrot dangling that happens. Tired of the enticement. Just let me sit still for a while so I can start living my life beyond surviving.

I’m not in the worst position in the world. I know that for a lot out there I am in an enviable place in life. It’s still not great, however, and I think there needs to be more done to uplift people. Yeah, sure, I’m in a really bad situation. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s going on. I keep on applying and I keep waiting for rejections. It’s not great. However, I have the ability to keep going. To keep trying. A lot of others don’t. In that regard I am fortunate.

It doesn’t make the situation better, however.

This weekend I’m spending most with my partner. I’m going to be spending a lot of it job hunting, however, and that’s the tiring bit. The spinning of the wheels when they’re so agonisingly close to the ground. I know something will come up, but how close to being in a really bad spot will I be before it does? How many more applications do I need to do before I get the job that isn’t a temporary contract?

And I know, applying for temp roles is going to get me temp jobs, but I’m not just applying for those. That’s just what I keep ending up with. That’s what’s tiring. That’s what’s taxing.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:59:29

Look, I wouldn’t call myself proud of this bit of writing. It’s what came out, I stand behind it, but I’m not proud of it. Times are just tough at the moment. A lot of stress that feels like a partial repeat of last year.

Written at home.

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The Corellas Fly Past

Posted on February 5, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

Long day, so have a photo of some corellas flying past, and one changing direction… but still flying past.

I hope you enjoy.

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Self-portrait, Late 2025

Posted on February 4, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

This was taken on the drive home from Bathurst. I wanted to get a dramatic, moody photo of myself, and the best one I got was with my phone which I took as reference.

This is the next best one.

This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week. The next one is hosted by Dawn of The Day After, and she has chosen the theme of “Circles”.

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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Nobuo Uematsu: Prelude to the Void

Posted on February 4, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

I did this one over one listen, and I think the main reason why is that I’m highly familiar with the song. I think that, having not listened to it in a good while also helped as I wasn’t overthinking. Maybe sleep last night also helped.

Anyway, I was hoping to get a sense of where the song is used across. That didn’t come through anywhere as much as I’d hoped, but I think what I wrote works well enough in getting an idea of the song across.

Nobuo Uematsu’s (植松 伸夫) “Prelude to the Void” (“虚空への前奏曲”) is from Final Fantasy V‘s soundtrack, Final Fantasy V Original Sound Version.

I hope you enjoy.

—

Bass and percussion, and some wind, and another bright bit of percussion, everything forms frame, loops and repeats. Strings come in, tense, pressuring, and so do other sounds. A frame pressing down, pressing in, urging.

When brass enters and builds, the strings follow and underscore, rising and falling in smaller steps. The brass climbs, rises, falls, rises, falls, and the sounds around continue on, keeping frame, keeping space, keeping in step. Continuing on.

The strings change once more, almost play with some sort of sudden chaos, but then let tension coil again before everything cycles.

Once more, everything builds, tension keeps coiling, pressure builds, and the sounds keep on urging. They keep urging and driving forward, and within them, perhaps, is a sense of otherworldliness. Familiarity, but everything is off. Thrown together, permanent and temporary.

And those strings, once more, return to that sudden chaos. A sudden burst, but calm, before coiling once more, and once more cycling back with everything as everything fades away and the song ends.

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Willy Wagtail

Posted on February 3, 2026 by Stupidity Hole

I’d planned to write today but I didn’t. Instead, here’s a photo of a willy wagtail that is out of focus, but I still like. Not sure why. Think I’ve just not gotten one in flight this clear before.

I hope you enjoy.

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