Sitting here, waiting for the sound of rain to take over everything. It’s a warm day and I’m about to churn like I haven’t churned in a while and I don’t know how it will turn out, or even if I will get to the end, but I will get something done at least and something is better than nothing, or so I am told.

The days grow long, though they always are the precise length that they are. But they grow long and in that length they become like fine noodles and are quite floppy when cooked in the right conditions for floppy noodles.

There’s a breeze and there are some flowers on the frangipani outside my window, and I wondering as to what I’m currently doing. Of course I am writing, but I’m wondering what I am doing with that writing. I don’t feel that there is anything for me to try and explore right now and I am reminded that I need to do more of this in the morning rather than the evening. This is an issue, but I’m not going to worry about that at this particular moment as I need to worry about other things.

A bit of breeze comes through the window opening and I still wait for the rain, and everything looks as it does but perhaps there is something weird about it. Maybe it has to do with a sky that appears heavy, yet is not releasing. Maybe it has to do with how things appear under this particular light, but I’ve seen the outside like this plenty of times and so I’ve got no clue as to why it feels weird.

I guess that’s pretty obvious.

I think that when you’re feeling tired a lot of things will change and that change is predicated on how feeling tired can be quite distracting. Maybe.

Look, I don’t know how these things work. Ask me about the ocean and I can probably tell you some things, but anything else and I’m usually guessing. Hopefully it leads to more learning.

The rain has finally arrived, or at least it sounds like it has arrived. I could go outside and check but I don’t want to do that, but I will have to go outside soon anyway as the bins must be taken out if I am to have their contents collected. Still, I’d much rather stay here in this room and think about things that don’t matter and then organise my thoughts in a way that matters even less. It is through this that I will somehow attain something that I am yet to experience and in all of this the power of back pain will truly become eternal.

Oh, I still have a few words to go. I thought that would be enough to finish this off, but apparently I was incorrect in that thinking. Next time I’ll need to be better about the thinking, but I think that might not happen.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:04:10

Not as fast as I’d hoped. I started speeding up toward the end and I think that had a negative impact. Went a bit silly.

Written at home.