So I had made a good chunk of progress on one of these just now when I accidentally reset the timer, which was a bad thing to do.

I was writing about how I was ready to do things this morning and now that is gone due to my being anal about how I go about doing these things and really, whose fault is that? Certainly not mine. I can blame others and I will, because I can. I can shirk the shroud of responsibility that I should deservedly wear, for I do not want to wear it and therefore no one can make me wear it, though really I cannot take it off for this one is mine and mine alone and it is up to me to wear it responsibility, or something.

Anyway, I feel quite demotivated now. I don’t want to do this. I was going strong and I was getting things done and there was a sense of hope and triumph over laziness, but of course my mistake had to happen and now I am here, writing this lazy filth and expressing things in a way that does not constitute good writing. I am having my whinge about the fact that I decided to scrap the whole thing that I had written due to my resetting a timer and its not being complete. I am doing this and I will be as dramatic about it as I feel like being and no one can stop me. Maybe some two can, but no one can’t.

So now I don’t know as to what it is that I do from here. I don’t know as to how I should try and wrap this up, or even if this should be wrapped up at all. I walk among the ashes of creation and I occasionally stomp my feet in the hopes that my grumbling will lead to that which I want it to lead to, but of course there is no hope at this point. There is no success. It is all time to move on from what it was that I was doing, and so move on I might just do. I might just not also, but really, I might just do as I cannot even remember what it was that I had written and I need to work out as to how I will wrap all of this bit up so that I can get on with the next thing and then pretend to find some hope once more.

Still, there is always real hope and I can cling onto that and then swing into whatever it is that I need to swing into in order to get that hope going and see it turn into something else, then grow the thing so that it becomes something far greater than I could ever imagine.

Still, there is no motivation now so I’ll sink the opportunity, but I’ll do it later as I’m being lazy at the moment.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 04:56:44

This started off slow and picked up speed as I wrote.
I think that this works as a reaction to writing that won’t be seen.
Outside of that, it’s rather bland, but that’s not different from usual.

Written at home.