Wondering if I can churn out a bunch of words in quick succession again. Wonder this all the time (not really), and right now I am wondering again. Always wondering; never wandering.

Sometimes wandering, but you know. So anyway, that’s where I am at right now and that is what I am doing, so I’m gonna see. I’d like to get under four minutes again. It has been a long while since I had a table that made this feel more viable than it is, and I think that I can do it this time. I don’t know if I can do it, but I think I can and I hope that I can, so I’ll see if I can.

Of course, this means that I need to think of things to write and I don’t know what I can write. My brain is a bit scrambled form being tired for as long as I have. The drive is there. The drive to write things that don’t matter is there. The drive to see if I can do something that’s kind of pointless is there. The function isn’t quite. But we’ll see. We always see and today we’ll see.

Maybe I’ll make multiple attempts at this. Maybe I won’t. What I will do is yet to be determined, but what is determined is that I am writing a lot faster than I recently mostly have, and maybe that means that I am finally in a space where everything will work out the way it should work out, or rather, the way I hope it will work out. I don’t really know, but know what I really don’t is not knowing that and thus knowing that I don’t know, and that, in itself, is a form of knowing.

What is that sentence?

So I’m sitting here and I’m wasting time. I should be learning and I should be working and I’m doing neither, and that’s okay for now. Maybe I can get away with it; maybe I cannot. However, I am entitled to this time so I’m not getting away with anything. Or am I?

Anyway. Don’t think I’m gonna make it, but it was a valiant attempt.

What isn’t valiant is my continuing with this wasted mass of words, but I started and I’m gonna finish it. It is the right thing to do, or the wrong thing to do, or the selfish thing to do, or maybe none of those. I don’t know and, quite frankly, I don’t care right now. I’m itching to churn words and that is precisely what I’m doing, and I’m getting there. I’m writing things and putting them out, and they’ll be read or they won’t, and that’s okay. I still have quite a lot to write over the next few months, anyway. Gonna be a tough climb, but I’ll get there. Always do in the end, unless I don’t, in which case I was wrong and I’ll need to own that, or something.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 04:43:08

Toward the end I realised I wasn’t going to get there and slowed down a fair bit. Happens.

Written at work.