So I sit here and it is dark outside and I try to get the things done, but perhaps I’ve left everything a little too late into the evening. I should have started earlier, but alas, there were things on that I needed to take care of and so now I am here and I am writing this out so that you can read that I am writing about the thing that is nothing to write about.

Yes, that is correct: there is little for me to write about at the moment.

I think I may have had something to go off of this morning, but maybe I’m just imagining that and instead I should just focus on this and see where this leads me. There is no point in lamenting a past that may not have actually happened, though maybe there is depending on the situation.

I guess that, for me to be able to something something and now I am not so sure as to where I am going with this, so I guess I should get on with that. I should find that and see where it takes me, if it does indeed take me anywhere at all.

Maybe there is no point in continuing on with the writing of this particular bit of writing, but of course I will continue as that is what I do. I will continue on with it and I will keep on going with the writing of what I am writing as that is currently what I want to do. After I finish this there will be even more writing to come. It does not end; it pauses periodically.

Now that I have clarified that I can get on with what it is that I am going on about during this particular evening. You see, despite all my implying that I have no idea as to what it is that I am currently going on about, I most certainly do know as to what it is that I am going on about. What I am going on about is my not knowing a stop what it is that I am going on about, and that truly covers the whole thing and so on and so forth. In knowing that, I can feel liberated and free to carry on as I see fit and so the subject will somehow deepen itself as I stare into the maw of its maw and wag my finger, expressing my shame at its attempts to swallow me up and lose me within itself, leaving me to feel bewildered and damned by this unfortunate series of circumstances that somehow led to me being swallowed by the subject.

That all said, maybe I will let it all rest. It is not quite late in the evening, but soon I will be required to take it easy and so taking it easy is what I’d rather do sooner, so that is indeed what I will do, but later on.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:17:05

Quick and messy.

I think that at one point I had something going that would’ve worked but I dropped it a little too quickly.

Written at home.