Now that I’ve finished writing about Japan, there are so many more things that I can choose to write about as it’s out of the way and I have the freedom that I so thirstily crave!
I shall write about what I want, where I want, whenever I want.
Yes, even on the toilet.
But putting pen to paper is not as easy a task as it should be.
You see, now that I’ve finished writing about Japan, I do not seem to have anything else to write about, for it’s writing about Japan that I crave.
I feel frustrated and constipated in a way that I never thought was humanly possible to feel and that worries me far more than I feel it should.
I cannot write about anything anymore, for writing about Japan is what has consumed me for all too long.
I don’t know what to do and all I can feel is a nagging feeling that I need to go back in order to write again, for I will never have the ability to write again if I don’t.
I have decided to set out swimming at noon and then get there by dawn the following day, hopefully avoiding any encounters with menacing cucumbers bragging about the various, numerous transgressions that they have so proudly committed that only lead to horrible, horrible blasphemies that one could only dream of in a state that is neither conscious, unconscious and far, far removed from semi-conscious.
It’s a form of con science, you know.
But then again, who is to say that that is what I’ll be looking to avoid, other than me?
I don’t think I’d have too much trouble and the journey would be fairly pleasing.
Maybe I should just do a long jump over there instead.
It would be far, far faster, but then again I might collide with a bird and then that bird would be injured, leading to my caring for it until it can be fit enough to care for itself again.
I think I may be rambling a little too much here, so I think I should increase the level of rambling so that I get sidetracked into something else far more interesting, like talking about how amazingly bad the idea of kicking a cassowary in the face is.
That is an amazingly bad idea as they are vicious birds.
With all of that being said, I think I should just stay here and enjoy the fact that I’m currently sitting on a chair because if I don’t, I may realise that I am, in fact, myself and therefore be forced to experience some sort of apotheosis whilst the ever-cooling universe decides it’s time to shrink, slowly but surely ensuring that there will be nothing but eternal rebirth at the hands of some greater form of chaos that cannot be truly perceived; only experienced in small portions of subtle reality that we do not want to face.
But then again, who knows?
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 9:38:26
I’m pretty happy with that, considering I haven’t done a challenge since September and also how much time I spent on writing about Japan.
This was written at my desk at work.