Alright I’m gonna knock this one out as I’m far behind and I need to do a good bit of catching up at the moment. If I don’t do that, then I fall further behind and that is not something I want to do.

I think I’ve stumbled upon a bad idea in doing what I’m doing today, but I’m still aiming to get it all done. Still aiming, still should give up, but still aiming. Bad ideas come in good intentions, and bad intentions come in good ideas. It’s how it all goes, but I can get this done. I can get that done, too. A lot of things I can get done, really. Just keep going, aim for the goal. Aim for the prize.

The rain that had fallen is disappearing. It is drying up, and it’s a shame. The sunlight and the rain made for a good combination, I think,. but you don’t always get what you want. Hell, you don’t even get some of what you want, but that’s the way it goes sometimes. Them’s the breaks, and I’m not in the process of breaking things so it’s not something I want to explore too heavily. Or at all, really. There are other, far more important hings that I need to do with my time and now is not the time that I need to do them in.

So where do I go from here? I find myself at a juncture in time and writing where I need to keep going out of pure spite for anything resembling sensible processes, but I don’t have any spite left in me to use to be spiteful about. I do know that I have an immense reservoir of stubbornness and I try to tap into that here and there, but it doesn’t always work. There’s always something pushing against me and there’s only so much against I have to push against with something against the pushing of… yeah.

So… bad ideas. Bad ideas come and go and I have plenty of them. I have one right now, and that idea is an idea that involves continuing this silly endeavour. However, I said to myself that I was going to do it sooner or later and that is what I am doing. Sure, I could be talking about plenty of other things right now. I could be talking about what is happening in the world, but doing so would involve not talking about me and I want to talk about me right now.

I’ll talk about other things later. Right now it’s all mine. All slick, all awesome, all a fool, all me.

And so it all goes on and I keep going. I keep writing crap, or maybe crap is writing me.

What if I am fictional character in someone else’s story? I mean, we all are, depending on how much you want to stretch the definition of fictional here, but we are all fictional characters. We only matter to some stories and not others, and we matter to ourselves, of course. But we are not real.

Well, we are, but you know.

Perhaps this is the moment where I start losing it from all the stress and pressure I’m putting upon myself, and then that’s that. What then? Who cares. Well, I care, but maybe you don’t. Maybe I don’t. Maybe care is not something to be had, but to be given and therefore what I should be asking is who gives a care.

Who gives a care? I certainly don’t. Or I do. I don’t know anymore.

And so with all of that being said, there are only a few more bits and pieces that I need to write and then I am done for the day, and then I can safely say that the day is done and I’m checking out. There’s a big night ahead and plenty of time to be an awful writer than, and I certainly will. It’s how it all goes, anyway. But who is to say that I will remain an awful writer? Maybe after all of this writing is done, I will find that I have become… a tolerable writer.

I wish.

So in this mad dash for the finish line, I find myself wondering if I think any of today has been worth it, and maybe it has. Probably hasn’t, but maybe it has. I think there are better things that I could have done and this idea is definitely not one of them. It’s starting to hurt me a lot, but I persist as I’m a fool and I’m stubborn. At the very least, I know that I’ve had some fun with it all, but fun is not something that should be had all the time. Or something.

There really are far better things that I could be writing right now and this is what I’m going with. This foolishness. This tomfoolery. This waste of time and utter load of crap, but hey, it’s mine and it’s my pile and everyone can take it away from me, and perhaps everyone should. I don’t know. Or I do know. Only one way to find out, really, and that’s to offer all of this to everyone and then go from there.

But I think that now is a good time to stop. Or continue. I am yet to decide. I will still try, however. I will continue on and I’ll keep going, and I’ll make another attempt on another day, and then that will be that.

I think what I’m saying is that I need to rest my wrists and stop doing what I’m doing unless I want further hurt. I don’t want further hurt. I want rest. I want luxury. But we’ll see. Either there will be more stuff today or there won’t. Either way, I’ve put in a really solid effort and I’m at least proud of that, even if most of the writing today was incredibly lacking.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 10:48:00

This one turned out terribly. The main issue with yesterday is that I tried to cram a lot of writing into a very short period of time and it did not work. I ended up hurting my wrist by doing so. Next time I’ll pace myself a bit.

Written at work.