So I started off writing something that seemed vaguely poetic, but it ended up getting tossed aside as I just don’t have the energy to try and find many ways to describe the evening in ways that seem poetic and imaginative.
Instead it’s just going to be brute force minimalism from here on in as I’m tired and I want to read a book and I want to get into bed, but not in that order, though that may indeed end up being the order in which things happen as sometimes that is the way the order happens. I control it, but I pretend not to. I pretend to let the whimsy of fate decide which order things will be in on any given day, though admittedly some things remain in a particular order that I don’t pay much attention to because I don’t for whatever reason that may be.
I guess that makes me think about routine to some extent. How much do we pay attention to routine? How much do we care about falling into a routine? How many out there even notice the notion of a routine? Is routine good at being obfuscating? I don’t know. There are many things I don’t know and of course this is one of those things.
Maybe I need to think more about it. Of course routine can be a good thing, but you can’t always stick to it… unless for specific reasons you need to stick to it.
Now I’m too tired to even commit to this train of thought. Maybe I should get myself a warm glass of something and then just lie down. Skip the book. Disappear into my headspace until I just fall into a deep, unrelenting sleep for around eight hours, then wake up and get back to doing things that I need to get into so that they’re out of the way and then that’s the rest of the day done, or something. Where am I even going with this?
I think the point that I’m trying to make is that writing when tired is a tricky endeavour at times, but it too can be highly rewarding so long as you know what it is that you’re doing, but even if you don’t know what it is that you’re doing, you might still coming up with something of a great quality, or great insight, or something.
Of course it is only a chance, but then again chance can be mitigated with work… though only sometimes.
Okay, now that I have that out of the way I really think I am going to take to my book. I need to stop. I need to rest., I need to be relaxed for the morning. The book isn’t relaxing, but it’s something along the way to relaxing and then I’ll pass out and dream of things and then I’ll just keep on repeating myself as that surely is the best way to find some sort of ultimate conclusion.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:04:06
A great deal of rambling that seems to actively avoid substance.
Written at home.