And so the racing begins. I’ve no plan to write anything that may even attempt to look at the concept of substance at the moment – that comes later – so I’m just racing on ahead and hoping that something comes out of the nothingness that comes from stringing a series of words together to imply some sort of thing whilst not saying a thing at all.
There probably is a lot to say at this particular moment, but it won’t be said as there is nothing left to say. Everything that has been said has been said and everything that will be said has been said. AS such I cannot say anything else and I will fill this with audible silence. As I fill this with silence I will look inward and wonder as to why I think about the things that I think about and I will try and work out how to undo all the thinking. Maybe I can reverse the thinking… somehow.
Sometimes all I have is a series of disconnected thoughts and sometimes that is better than nothing,. Sometimes you just have to write and you just have to do something, even if you don’t have anything to help the process of whatever you’re doing go forward. I feel compelled to write, but I wonder if that really is due to a continuous desire, or if it is just habit at this stage. I don’t know and I don’t care to know; I just keep on writing.
Sometimes if I write enough I feel satisfied with whatever it is that I have done. Sometimes. However, that satisfaction does not last long and that’s probably a good thing. You need to stay driven in some ways, but if you stay driven you should probably also try and keep on improving and that’s not always the easiest thing to do, I think.
Maybe it is. Maybe it is easy to keep on improving and work toward getting better, but I don’t know if that is indeed the case. I’m guessing about things and I guess about a lot of things, but I also spend a lot of time thinking about things too. Maybe I spend too much time thinking about things; I don’t know, but I think I should know… I think.
The day passes on and I sit here and I write and I think and what I’m thinking about right now is that I’m writing words that are coming through to this. I think that this isn’t necessarily worth finishing but I will finish it as I need to get other things done before the day is over. I will work on those other things soon but this needs to be out of the way first. Once this is out of the way I’ll try and improve my writing by a bit more than I have in the past, though I probably won’t and instead just be lazy and watch the clouds blanket the sky. I think.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:01:52
I think perhaps when I started writing was not the best time to start writing.
This started as something, became something else, then became something else again and it doesn’t have much of a flow. The words are fine, but overall the whole thing is a bit on the rough side of things.
Written at home.