What’s the time right now? It’s writing time.

Somehow I just lost twenty minutes and I’ll probably lose twenty more before the day is over. I’m not jumping through time, however: I just… lost it.

Where did it go? What does it want? Where is it now? And all of these other irrelevant questions that swirl around.

Right now I’m trying to dump words and get back to carving. Keep the train going. Get to the end of the swim. All those sorts of things. I’m trying to find the direction and make my way to wherever it points. Trying to get to the end of it all, or rather the start of the rest of it. See the sky, find the blue, stand at where the sand meets the sea and the sea meets the sky, and watch the clouds as I float along for a few short seconds. Find the space and go on through there.

I’m trying to imagine a series of things and see where they fall, and from there maybe that’s the path ahead. What am I trying to imagine?

What am I even writing here?

What am I trying to imagine? Where does this all lead? Why questions? Are there even a need for questions still, or have all the answers of all time already been provided? Do we even face the day if there is no day to face? Am I going to face the day and fall asleep? I don’t know.

Actually I’m pretty stressed at the moment but the day has to be faced, regardless.

I don’t know why these particular words are the ones that are coming out from me right now, but I feel that in letting them, perhaps there is some sort of narrative that will come forward. Maybe the path will reveal itself.

Wait, I do know why I’m writing these particular words. It’s all about warming up, rather than trying to find a way forward. I already know the way forward and I know what I need to do and I am currently doing it.

There is no waste. There are no bits and pieces that I’m casting aside, and all is well and fine. Still stressed, but I’ll be dealing with that pretty soon anyway. I’ll be dealing with the stress and moving on and going there, or here, and from wherever that all leads I go on and… yeah. But right now it’s just about getting things out of me so I can move on to the other things. Get back to editing down and pushing forward, and all those other things that sound good. That seem to make me feel good, or something.

Actually, there is no feeling good here and as I churn I just churn neutrally. Let it all come out… neutrally. No coming in form the sides with a happy disposition here. No raging; no pissing off the volcano. Just flat neutrality in a place of nothingness, layering over eternities.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:04:03

Decent speed. Big mess of writing, but maybe that’s okay at this particular moment.

Written at work.