Alright so I’m on the second one and now I need to work out where to go from here. I mean, I don’t. I can just satisfy myself with wasting everyone’s time, but I feel I have to say something important. Something special.

I’ve got nothing.

But you know, sometimes part of the fun of writing is having nothing. Sometimes it really is staring at the ceiling, zoning out, doing nothing, feeling everything and being incredibly paralytic. Incredibly and utterly paralytic, going nowhere, trying to find one’s way through a mess of thoughts flying off in all directions. It doesn’t always go the way we want it to, and that’s okay. That’s fine, to be honest. You just need to keep going, keep on trying, keep on loving and doing what you can in order to get to the end of your days in one piece, wherever that may lie.

Perhaps a bit dark for what I was hoping, but sometimes that’s the way things go, really. Sometimes you need to deal with darkness or heaviness, and try to face it with optimism. With jubilation and blissfulness. With joy in your heart. That’s what I hope to be able to do, one day. Maybe I already do and that’s what has beaten me down over time so much. I don’t know, but I might one day. I hope I might one day. Only one way to find out, really, and that’s through the getting of the things toward the status of done. Or not. Might just find out over time by chance. Through the gathering of experiences and collating them into neat little packages, then going from there. Going on and finding where everything fits in relation with each other and then do the facing of in a state of optimistic emotion or something.

So the day continues and it’s dark now and I’m just here, just a passenger in my life path of life, and it’s okay. It’s not bad, actually. I’ve done quiet well. I sit here in a kitchen and just bang on the keys and soon I will have food. Soon I will eat, and then after this coming week, I’ll be an active participant in life again. I’ll be actively doing life things and getting on with it all, and that’ll be nice. That’ll be cool. I’d like that. I hope that I’d like that.

A bloody hell, I’m getting all emotional and it’s not even time to get emotional. There’s still so much to get through. So much to do. I can get there, however. I can get there and get to the end of it, and then I will be the reigning champion of everything and nothing, and then no one person shall stop me, except for anyone willing to go “Hey, can you stop?”, because how could I resist such a request? How could I truly deny stopping when the need to stop is probably there, hence why in this instance I’m being asked? I don’t know and I don’t want to know, but I’ll keep on going along the path as that would be a curve that I’d have to follow and I don’t even know where this is going anymore. It’s just a series of thoughts not being expressed well, being overwhelmed by things beyond things and thinging beyond thinging.

So I et to sit here and there’s a spider web just outside the window. It sits there and I sit here and neither of us have anything to say. Of course the web of a spider doesn’t talk, but it does tell a story. It says something about the space around us. These are things we should pay more attention to, I think. Not enough people paying attention to the world around them, and I’m one of them. I cannot deny this, but I’d like to. I’d like to pretend that I’m abvoe it all, but that’d be a lie.

And so we get serious  once more and that’s not what I want to be doing. I want to be silly and float along and find my way, and then some other stuff that sounds cool. That’d be cool. That’d be nice. I’d like that. Or I wouldn’t. I don’t know. Or I do.

And so I keep going. I keep going and I keep writing, and I hope that at the end of this all I’ve have done the doing and I’m just saying the same things over and over.

Why am I like this? Why do I keep allowing myself to just stay where I am? I could easily go in so many different directions, and yet I keep doing the same stuff. It keeps happening and I don’t stop myself. What am I to do? Where am I to go? I don’t know. I don;’t know anymore, and I didn’t want to know. I just want to get to the last few of these and then do my goodbye thing and then I’d be free to run amok and amok a run. Just my own run though, to be clear. I don’t want to be yucking other people’s yums… unless I do. That’d show them, the ungrateful louts…

So anyway, I’m going further and further into nothingness and oblivion, and as I slowly go there I lose more of what makes me me so as to further simplify and determine various  lengths of tedium, measure them out and then go from there to here, and here to there, and find all the everything of nothing and turn it into a nice little suit that I could wear around the house, and maybe outside on the odd occasion. That’d be a good idea, or it wouldn’t, and I can only hope to be done with it when it no longer is fashionable. That’d be an idea, but it’s not one I feel is worth entertaining further, and so I feel it’s time to wrap this writing up.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 11:42:98

Bit of an odd writing. I’m glad it went by quickly, but it’s pretty sloppy.

Written at Killara.