Hardly working hard, and yet the need for sleep is needed due to the exhaustion I managed to give myself.

Working with a new keyboard on a new computer is a weird experience. I need to get a different keyboard, maybe. I like this one, but it’s just not as good for me as I want. I guess that says more about a refusal to adapt more than it does about the keyboard, but, well, you know…

Writing, writing and more writing needs to be done in the next few minutes. Well, maybe,. Maybe I just need to work more on going to bed or something. Maybe I need to work on resting up and recharging so I’m energised for tomorrow and therefore can take on THE WORLLLLLLD!

Well, that would be nice, but tomorrow is a work day in which very little shall get done as I’m a lazy person. A lazy, lazy person.

I think I need to spend a little less time writing at night. Well, I don’t often do it anyway.

I think that I’m looking to fill space, but realistically all this is doing is filling time.

I have the desire and I have the need, but I think that I’m procrastinating a little too much.

Outside the thunder cracks, and before the lighting would illuminate the space underneath. I was out there at one point and now I am inside, writing away for some reason. I don’t know as to what I’m writing about, but the only way to tell is in the produce that is the result of the typing.

The rain has only been heavy for short periods. It is coming in waves. It attacks, then it relents. With its withdrawal the heat comes back to creep in and is only removed once the rain falls once more. The heat is not necessarily unpleasant, but of course it is carrying a lot of what feels like humidity, and as such it is not something that I want to bear at the moment.

I’m merely whinging, though. The sound of the rain certainly is not one that is unpleasant. That said I must admit that I wish it was a little louder so it could lull me to sleep. Lull me slowly and then I could pass out and sleep soundly until the morning in which I would inevitably wake up, as it would be the morning and thus it would be the time to wake up and get the things done so that they are done and done when they need to be done, or something.

If this doesn’t make much sense, then don’t worry; I theorise that it has a lot to do with the desire of my body to stick to this chair as much as it can.

It’s neither pleasant, nor unpleasant. It’s just a thing. Could be worse, I guess. Could be sticking to the wall.

Besides which, the chair and I are almost one and the same.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:42:13

Maybe this was too normal. I don’t know.

Written at home.