Another few days of struggling to get anything down that could be conducive to writing, or at least furthering my writing. Another few days of struggling to go everywhere and nowhere, and sometimes I wonder how the time seems to disappear. How the time seems to seep away.

But you keep on trying and push through al the fatigue and struggle, and hopefully you get there in the end. Hopefully. It just takes time, until it no longer does and it’s all gone. Or you just decide to leave it all behind. Who knows which will be the end result.

But it’s a warm day, or rather it is now but wasn’t earlier, and things are moving and I’m still struggling, but you keep on pushing on and you keep on going and try to get what you need to get done done. If not, then who will? You gotta do your stuff; someone else cannot do yours for you, but they can help. Okay, they can do yours for you, and admittedly sometimes that is better. Sometimes that is better than nothing at all, and sometimes that is a clearly superior option. However, that’s not what I’m meant to be going on about right now.

There’s a lot to say, but I don’t know what I’m trying to say anymore. I just want to get this done and then go rest. Tired. Sleepy. All those things. Too much to do, not enough time to get it all done. You know, the usual stuff. It keeps on going and you keep on trying, but it just keeps on going anyway and everything is tiring, and writing is a struggle but I keep on going. Don’t want to let it get away from me. Not yet, anyway. Once I’ve a bit more done then it’s all good. But not right now.

So there’s some rambling here, and a lot of going nowhere. The whole point of this was made early on, and I’ve said enough on it for now, I think. Maybe it’s the being quite tired talking, but I’ve said enough. I don’t know what else to say and I’m just throwing things at the wall, but writing can be a real struggle and sometimes that’s the best way to treat it…. or maybe not. There are so many ways to think about writing, and maybe I’m struggling right now, but who is to say how it will be tomorrow. In a few days. Could be anything. Could be the easiest thing ever experienced and I’ll just skate along on the words as I lay them down, and it will be the most graceful thing ever experienced, ever.

Then again, maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll have more difficulty and I’ll be sitting here, trying to force something and having nothing come up, and that will be that, and that’s it, and there’s nothing I can do about it, but I’ll keep on trying anyway, even if it remains a struggle.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:27:25

It took a lot of today to get to this point. Not a good bit of writing, but felt necessary, somehow.

Written at home.