Alright, enough with the slowness. It is time to race. It is time to race hard. It is time for me to use simple words tin order to save time, and I will do that to the best of my ability. Or the worst of my ability. It is yet to be determined, but nothing is determined, unless it is determined. No, this is not a philosophical pissing contest; I’m just saying whatever in order to reach my quota.

Too many days in a row I’ve tried to do something and too many days in a row I’ve failed miserably. Lack of sleep is the main offender. The next one is lack of effort. Trying to get not enough done in too much time, and that’s how it goes, really. That’s how it always goes. It keeps on going and I cannot stop it, and it sucks, or something. It doesn’t hurt; just sucks.

I feel as though I let myself down far too easily. I’m not disappointment, necessarily; just letting myself down. Just letting myself fail myself, but there is no need or obligation at this point. I am free of myself, and that’s awesome. That’s great. I get to keep on going, keep on powering on, and I get to see the end of everything the way that I want to, but I probably won’t at this point. I need to make some strong compromises, and so that’s what I am doing. But still, I will get there. I will get there and I will see the end of it all. I will see then end of this space, especially being so close to it all. Being so close, and yet so far away.

So what do I saw from here? Where do I go? I just want to get all the writing done and then take care of a few things that I need to take care of. That’s right, all the writing. All the writing that ever will be and will be forever more. That’s what I want to get done.

Can I? Will I? How and why? And in which way is best and not worst, but worst when it is best? I don’t know and I don’t have the answer to everything, but I wish I did. Would certainly make my life a lot easier. Is that something that I’m allowed? An Easy life? I don’t know. I don’t care.

There’s a lot of seriousness coming through these more recent things, and I know the end of this blog is affecting it. I know that the end of this blog is seeping through, and I can’t do much about it. I just keep on writing, keep on trying to think of something that could be worth saying. I’ve nothing, however. I’ve nothing to say that is worth saying. I’ve tried and tried and tried again, and nothing comes forward. It’s all heaviness, all sadness, all confusion. I’ve ripped a part of myself from myself, and it’s not good. It’s not great. It’s the way it has to happen sometimes, however.

So… yeah. The day goes on. I race against the clock, maybe for the last time. Don’t know yet. I’m trying to think of things to say and once more I have nothing. Nothing changes and everything changes. The world twirls on a pogo stick, and I just sit here, acting as thoguh I know it all when I know nothing. Or rather, I’m acting like I know nothing when I know nothing. It’s a thin veneer to be behind, I know.

Nearly there, nearly at the last few words of this rambling. Getting there, approaching, getting my way through the woods and darkness and finding where the pieces lie and where they fit, and getting eternally closer. Eternally closer and eternally far away, just the way it always is. Just the way it always goes. Just the way I don’t like it. It’s all good, however. It’s always all good, but this is all good. Not all bad.

Realistically, I’ve had a good run and this sort of stress and confusion, whilst not great, is not the worst thing in the world.

So now that I’ve said that, I need to do a little bit more racing so I can then write something after this that makes a little more less sense, in a way that carries less more sense and in that sense, there will be something that could be delectable if it were a food. Perhaps a food that was also an item one could wield. That’d be great. That’d be swell. Just need to find where it all goes and how it all goes, and the why and what and why the words aren’t coming together as well as I would have hoped that they would have, had I any hope and faith behind this bit of writing.

Truly, I am scarping the bottom of the barrel. Is there even a barrel bottom left? I don’t know, but it;s a nice view, and I do like me a good view. I like me a good view that I can appreciate, and so long as I can appreciate it in a way that allows me to show my appreciation, I think I’ve got things covered well enough. Try to hope for good coverage, anyway. Worse things in the world, but bad coverage is bad coverage, and that is not something that… I have no idea where this sentence is going and so I’m gonna stop it.

And now onto the next sentence, where I shall say things and they shall be said in the written form, and then I’ll just get on with my evening as there are far too many things left to do and I need to get onto them. This is already taking far too long and I need to get on with my list of tasks and get them out of the way in a timely manner.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 10:44:59

Good speed. Absolute mess.

Written at home.