I think it is time to begin with the getting on and the writing. Going to try and power for a bit though a bit is not as much as I’d like but I’ve got to make the most with what I have and so making the most with what I have is what I will do and so I am now doing what I can with what I have.
The day draws long and compresses and I sit here and bang away on the keyboard. I think about what I am doing and I think about what is playing on the speakers. There is something gluing me to this seat and that glue is the power of laziness, though maybe it is actually the power of being really tired. I am yet to work it all out and maybe I don’t want to work it all out. Maybe what I really want is a sense of progression but that sense of progression is already here; I just do not recognise it.
I try and collate my thoughts into coherent patterns but nothing comes forward as something cohesive. What comes forward is a jumbled mess that is slowly pouring out due to a mad rush toward the way out. The only way that they can flow freely is by expressing a bit less of a push and backing out, but that isn’t going to happen.
The ones that are free race around my head and eyes and keep dodging my attempts to grab them and work them out. They move far too fast for me to be able to do anything and so, after a while I just try and ignore them and sit down and get back to doing things. However, they keep getting in the way and they keep obstructing my view. There is little I can do about this and so I keep on trying to ignore them.
Eventually I realise the folly of my attempts and instead try to move on with other things. Really though that is just trying to find something that will distract me enough and so when that inevitably fails I then try to pay attention to the mass of noise that is moving around me.
It is impenetrable and anything that resembles a thread to grab onto leads to something imperceptible for there is no rest. There is no slowing down and it just keeps on going faster and faster and faster.
Eventually I decide that I have had enough and so I go outside. The day is sunny and the weather is nice and warm, though there remains a lingering coldness that I cannot shake. It brushes my skin and holds fast and so I try to shake it but I cannot. However, I do not try for long as the aim is to go for a walk. The aim is to get out of the house and get away from my thoughts rushing all over the place. They try to follow but it is easier to deal with them as I walk. Maybe after walking they will grow tired and allow me to organise them into forms that allow for perception and understanding.
The streets are quiet which lends a weird sort of unsteady peace to the surroundings. I try to imagine what these places looked like before forced reshaping took place and it is difficult to imagine. What I see is something considered traditionally Australian bushland; I don’t know if it is an accurate representation of what this area once looked like. It probably is closer to the original appearance than a series of houses and roads and developed park area.
Still, the air seems nice and the sound of birds carries on a gentle breeze and I find myself smiling, if only slightly. It is easy to move through the space around me and I feel at ease. I feel as though I’m getting somewhere and things are forming in my mind. There is no forming from nothing but rather forms from combination and slowly the blockage and mass shrinks down and all begins to come forward in ways that make sense.
I look to the river and see how much of it is still bounded by construction. I see that there is rubbish in that river but I also see the attempts to restore it to how it may have once appeared. The attempts to make it healthier are working. It is taking a lot of time but it is a change and that people are dedicated to improving the river and the surrounding small pockets of ecosystem are working. I think to myself about how this will be beneficial not just to the areas that this river flows through, but also Sydney as a whole and I carry a little hope in my heart for our ability to change and become better, not just for ourselves and our communities, but also the environment as a whole.
I find some shade and appreciate it, but the cold still lingers. However, it is fading. It may fade slowly but it is indeed fading and so I feel myself moving a little quicker but no less relaxed.
It is an easy day and the afternoon draws long whilst I walk. I appreciate that as it feels like I have more time. In truth I have the same amount of time as I did before, but there is a way that time stretches out when doing things that makes it feel like you’re getting more done.
I head on home and I think about the small clouds that frame the area I’m walking through. I think about how they either may grow large or completely disappear, and their temporary, yet seemingly eternal existence gives me a lot to think about in terms of what I am doing with what I have.
I get home and I take stock of what I have around me, and I begin to write.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 13:48:80
I found this to be a bit of a struggle until I sort of unseated myself.
I’m mostly fine with the result. It’s pretty plain and doesn’t say much which is nothing out of the ordinary here, but it’s also nice and mostly smooth to read, I think.
Written at home.