It’s the evening and I haven’t bothered to lift the proverbial pen so far.
Actually, now that I think about it, there was an attempt at getting stuff done earlier, but that didn’t go far. Instead the day has been busy in other ways. There has been the sorting, unsorting, cleaning, dirtying and the recording of things. Not all at once, of course, but in close proximity. There has been the relaxing, winding, releasing, increasing and releasing of things in various orders to various success and failure, and of course levels in between, which I think might have been pointless to state as the words preceding “and of course levels in between” implied the implication that I was implying, I think.
Anyway, I think that now is a good time to state that it is indeed the time of writing. It might be getting late in the evening, but at least something is being done. I’m feeling the drive and push and as such I need to get on with the getting on and type away and get this done so I can move onto the writing about other things. There is an album that requires my attention, or something like that. It doesn’t, but I’m going to pretend that it does as that makes me feel more important.
I’m getting sidetracked, though when I think about it I’m rather good at getting sidetracked, so perhaps this is my attempt at showing my skill in a subtle, yet clever manner. In fact, that likely is what it is. I’m trying to show how I’m so able to easily get sidetracked without showing it that I have no idea as to how to end this sentence.
Perhaps the wait for evening before doing anything was not, in fact, a good idea, though it never was the intention; it was that there were other things that took precedence and now I’m here and I’m trying to make up for lost time, or something. Maybe.
I guess that at the end of the day, so long as I have written something, that’s a bit more than having written nothing, but there needs to be some sort of substance to the whole thing, but somewhere near the beginning I went off the rails and now I find myself trying to reorient, but I don’t quite think it is doable at this juncture so I’m just going to push on ahead and try and find something else that will express some sort of deep meaning about things and then there will be the meaning of deepness and I’ll have achieved all that it is that I am trying to achieve, or something.
Of course that isn’t true, but I’m going to keep on pretending as that is much easier. Wait; maybe some of it is true.
Oh, I just don’t know right now, but I guess that’s part of the journey and in knowing at least that much, I can think of this sentence’s end.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:07:60
Happy with the speed but I think it shows that I’m not awake enough to quickly churn something out with some sort of… focus?
Written at home.