Sometimes you wake up and do nothing. When that happens, what do you do? Well, you get to writing, of course!

I’ve always enjoyed a busy weekend, except when I haven’t, which is most of the time. I don’t mind a planned weekend, but a busy weekend… no. Most of the time. Some of the time. None of all of the time, and always none of the time. It’s how it goes when you get down to brass tacks, and so therefore I need to stride and whinny and moo and some other things that don’t really make sense given the context, of which there is little provided.

Yep. It’s one of those bits of writing where I’m just throwing whatever together and hoping for the worst.

I see that things are pretty bad out there, and I can tell by looking out my window. I’m waiting to use the bathroom, which is currently occupied by someone who doesn’t do enough around the house, and soon it will be free. It will be free, and so will I. Once it is free I will be able to stride out into the wide world outside, and by that I mean to the bathroom. I will stride to the bathroom, and I will carve paths to the future upon the gliding pain and pressure I feel within myself that slowly creeps up and creeps me out. And that’s the way it goes. That’s the way it all speaks to me and that’s the way I will continue with my life, but my life cannot continue unless I continue with it.

This is a bad way of going about writing, but it’s the way I’m doing it today. And maybe tomorrow, too. And the day after. If it gets to Friday, however, then no. Not then. Other days, however…

Feeling like a new person, except I don’t. Going to not do anything, except I will. Through my will I will will a way, and the way forward is not the way backward.

I should be writing about the wind over this. This is not entertain. This is crap. A lot of crap comes from these hands, and I need to stop with that. Only the purest of qualities can be produced through the work of the work that is happening, but… what am I even saying here?

I once had hopes and dreams and now all I think about are dreams and hopes. I’m wondering where I lost my way, and if I can ever find it again. There’s so much to do and so little time, and everything is just pressing on and in. Still, I keep going. I keep churning. Today and tomorrow are going to be busy days. Monday will be a busy day. I’m gonna crap on about nothing until I get to the top of the bottom of the middle of the top, and I’m not going to stop. Maybe my hopes and dreams lie within the crap.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:38:41

I’m a bit sluggish this morning and that sucks. Going to kick into high gear in a few hours, however. Might as well enjoy writing crap before I have to get really into the thing of things.

Written at home.