Alright, I’ve got about ten minutes to spare so I’m gonna cram as may words as I can into that space. I’m gonna write a whole lot of crap, pass it off as gold, then make my gold. This writing will be… goldworthy. Crap.

So anyway, there I was, standing at the precipice of been and gone, and wondering to myself where everything meant something to someone at some juncture in time. I wondered about hope and despair, and how these things circle the drain until the drain circles back. I wondered about circles and their meanings, and how they found their way through flames and fans and all the other positions jutting out in more circles. Jagged circles along the markings of the precipice, where nothing meant something and something meant nothing. Suddenly, there I was on the couch of the colour brown, back at home, back inside, confiding within myself about all the torture that I had wrought upon my wallet, and hoping for the best whilst expecting the worst. It was the way to be on that fine day and only I could know how to get to where I needed to get: the corner shop.

This, unfortunately, meant I had to put on pants and that was not something that I wanted to do. However, eventually I made a compromise and put on shorts. Practical, and comfortable. That’s what I needed most. However, it was a cold day.

I went outside and I felt the cold. I went outside of the room in which the couch of the colour brown was, and I was outside. I found it odd that all there was was that room and suddenly I was outside, and so I questioned what it was that I was trying to do. I questioned everything, and everything came back to me and reassured me of its making sense. I figured that this was okay, and so I began my walk.

I walked through the valley that lay ahead and I walked through the truth until I found the truth. I then took a turn along a brisk autumn leaf event, where the leaves fell en masse and the trees grew back the leaves but only so there could be some sort of fish springing forth, as fish springs eternal. It all made sense, but it wasn’t too long before I realised I was hopelessly not lost.

“Curse thee, strong sense of direction based on memory”, I muttered to myself as I continued on with my pace brisk. Everything was catching up to me and this was not something I desired, but it was something I had to deal with. there was no choice. I had to pick up my pace.

Suddenly everything was moving faster, and so I decided to try and trick it all into passing me. I slowed down a little. I tried to anticipate. I anticipated well. I did a little sidestep. It worked. For now. For then.

And so I continued on my little journey. I continued on to the corner shop. It took a while, but eventually I got there, or so I thought.

You see, when these things happen; when these journeys go along their merry way, despite all the knowing you hold within yourself, they have a way of deceiving you. I felt deceived, and I was deceived, for I hadn’t gone to the corner shop, or rather I had, but it wasn’t there. It had gone elsewhere, and this was not something I anticipated. Now it was in the mountains and so to the mountains I had to go.

Unfortunately as I turned, everything found me and suddenly I was engulfed and found myself back in that room, presented with all my happenings and experiences, and I was forced to provide answers to that which I had no answers for. It was not a good way to be.

A parade of swathes of everything came to me with nothing. Eventually I had to provide my answers despite having none. I had to think of something. I had to speak from the heart, and there was nothing. And so I advised of that. A chorus of voiceless voices came back to me and told me that I needed to answer. And this went on for a while. And so, eventually, I found a way to speak from the heart.

And so I spoke, and in speaking I pulled out from within, the greatest power of truth that I could access, and that bit of truth was the budgie of retribution, and so I summoned it into being, and its tiny chirp silenced and soothed all my enemies both within and without. They fell to it as those chirps cut them into shreds, and turned them into a fine fibrous paste. And then all was done, and that was that, and there was nothing left.

And now I found myself with no past, and no experience and no history, and this is not something I had thought about, and this was not good. However, maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe I now had a clean slate, and though I lost everything, I now had everything else to gain. Nothing else to lose.

This was terrifying, however, as my identity was in part informed by my experiences. Now I was truly a blank slate, but I still had myself, and I still had who I was, somehow. Despite everything gone, everything was still there. Within me. No longer judging me. No longer encouraging me. I didn’t know how to go about all of this, but what choice did I have?

The budgie, satisfied with the work it had done, satisfied with its purpose fulfilled, flew off in slow motion whilst also fading from reality. I was alone in this void and I knew not what to do or where to go. I thought about it, and eventually I decided to stand up from a sitting position, and walk toward tomorrow.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:57:79

I was hoping to finish this faster than I did. Not the worst thing in the world.
Pretty happy with the result, overall. It’s a slog, but it’s silly. Fun bit of writing.

Written at work.