Setting a timer and not really feeling up to writing but need to get some writing done regardless. Long day, quiet night though it is not yet night, but I’m guessing the night will be quiet. Could end up being loud; something of which I hope will not be the case.
Anyway, not feeling like writing but still writing. It’s good exercise. Keeps the things doing the things and keeps me going. Keeps the hands strong; keeps the hands mobile. Keeps a lot of things going on and keeps the thoughts flowing freely, though inevitably they always turn on themselves and in that turning on themselves they lead to nothing other than what they lead to and that’s something that happens, so therefore I need to try and not spiral if I’m going to exercise.
There are flowers in the tree outside my window and that’s nice to see. It’s nice to see them in the sunset and it’s nice to see them existing the way they exist. I like them there. Just pleasant.
Soon I will be going for a bit of a drive and that drive is for the purpose of moving furniture from one location to another, though it is not my furniture and so… yeah. Gotta be careful and gotta get it done before the sun sets. That will be a fun drive, but maybe it won’t. Maybe it will be a dull and uninspired drive and through all that I’ll realise something about myself and through that realisation of the self I will learn something and grow as a person, but the drive is short and dropping off the furniture is not going to take much time. That’s the way things go sometimes.
It’s all fleeting really but it will be time used well, or at least I hope it will be time used well. It’s something that needs doing and so it will be done and it will give some time to think about some things but none of that will matter. Those thoughts will disappear as though they hadn’t happened, but they will leave something that lingers; something that serves as a reminder of the general ideas and emotions I experienced on a short drive where I was too introspective about things.
At the end of it all I will likely get home after sunset and then I will resume typing about things that don’t matter but that’s the way it goes sometimes. Sometimes routine is there and you follow it through and maybe it will reveal something. Maybe it won’t, but I have no idea until I try and find out and all the other things that make this sound profound in a small way.
With that all said I have no idea where I was going with this and I have no idea where I will go with the next bit of rambling, but I can confirm that maybe there is something in here, and I hope it speaks to you.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:56:51
This started building toward something and I like that. It wasn’t something poignant, but it was likely something that may have meant something.
Written at home.