It’s a wet day. It’s a rainy day. It’s a bad day. It’s a good day. I’m realising that, perhaps, I’m not fully recovered from illness. Or maybe I am but am getting sick again. I don’t know. I do know I’m tired, however.

But it’s a rainy day and I’m sitting here, relaxing. I’m waiting for food and I am looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to relaxing by the end of the day, and the start of the day is here. The start of the day is now. Or it was somewhere between seven and eight hours ago, but the day, for me, is starting now.

I’m thinking about the weather. I’m thinking about my shoulder, which hurts but not as bad as it did yesterday, and that’s a good thing, of course. I’m thinking about what I can be thankful for in life, and there are a lot of things. There are plenty of things I can be thankful for, but I’m restless and I need to get back onto getting on with things. Of course, I have been doing plenty but there are other things I want to be doing. There are other things I want to be getting on with.

I’m thinking a out all the drafts I have that I need to edit into some sort of readable form. Or rather, I need to make them less messy and more what is normally considered as presentable. But this is old stuff to talk about.

As the world turns, so do I, and I’m sitting here doing very little, but I’m writing. I’m working toward at least one goal, and I’m working toward the last day of this blog, and it’s coming. Close to eight months left. Time for things to start getting really heavy, I guess. Or not have them heavy.

There are so many choices and sometimes you don’t have much say in which way you go, but I don’t necessarily want to be heavy. I don’t necessarily want to be angry. Sometimes an ending can be a joyous celebration, but I’m not sure if this one can be. There’s so much blandness spread throughout; so much worthlessness, and anger and sadness. A lot of stretches of nothing punctuated by something, and I don’t know if I can effectively pull this up. I don’t know if I want to try and make everything a jubilant celebration of ending.

But I don’t want to be morose about the whole thing, either.

The sun is coming out and the rain is disappearing. This is a moment in time that’s holding on, and the sun will soon disappear again. It will, once more, be obscured by clouds. That is the way these cycles go. Well, when there’s rain coming, anyway… unless the rain has stopped… for now.

So maybe the last bits of writing here will also be in cycles. It is yet to be seen. It is yet to be determined. Guess we’ll see.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:49:73

Written earlier today.
Time to kick things into high gear.

Written at Dirty Red.