Time to start. Time to begin. Time to find the words and sort them into an order that makes sense.
My hands do not seem to be functioning right now. That’s okay. They’ve had a strong burning sensation for ove3r twelve hours, but that has mostly faded. The follies of tearing apart peppers without gloves. Was not the best of ideas, but I survived and I’m here and I’m writing and that’s the main thing right now.
So once more the week has moved along toward its end and I sit here trying to work out what it is that I should write about. It’s a fine day for writing though. The sun is out. Some plants have had soil added to the area in which they inhabit and I’ve gone for a walk. There are an increasing amount of people out and about it seems and that is something I’d prefer not to happen, but they too need to get out of their abodes so it would be unfair for me to proclaim the area outside of the inside as my own.
For now I can proclaim the little space in which I’m sitting as my own and that’s probably a good thing. Or just a thing. I don’t think it matters, really.
I can proclaim a lot of things, but it does not mean that those proclamations hold weight to anyone outside of myself.
Where am I going with this?
Anyway, so I’m sitting here, doing the thinking thing and of course due to my actively thinking about trying to think of something to write about there is little that is coming to my mind and that of course becomes its own subject to discuss, but I want to avoid that as there are far too many of these about the very subject of trying to come up with something to write about and that is not something I want to specialise in, though it may just be that I have no choice but to do so as that is often what comes to mind. Of course I should just try and stop thinking so actively… or something.
Maybe I really should shift gears, come up with a topic for every single one of these and then go with that topic. Maybe it would make things a bit easier for me. I don’t know. All I want to do is just write and paint scenes with my words, share my photography and work on music. I don’t want to something something and so on and so forth.
However, if I continue at this rate then I’m sure that there will be some sort of esoteric explanation of what is and what is not and it will make sense to no being who reads this; not even me, as it will be far too meandering and haphazard to make any sense whatsoever.
I’ll probably have hit my peak by then and quite quickly be rolling down the other side.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:23:31
I’d probably feel as though this had some merit if I hadn’t already covered the same thing more times than I can think of right now.
Still, the flow is alright. Doesn’t seem to be awkward. Well, aside from the last sentence that is.
Written at home.