Stupidity Hole

Feeling like writing again. Maybe it’s all the writing I’ve done today. What do I write about, though? I feel like it, but I’ve nothing. I’ve shaken the well dry and my ocean is  not much of anything. That’s the way it goes, sometimes.

I do have to admit though that the drive is there. I’m tired, but I feel the need to push on through and get through it all and keep going because that is what I desire to do, I guess. Could desire other things, but right now that is what I want to do. I want to weave words into a pattern and a formation, and I want to construct sentences. I want t0o build something that stands tall and collapses easily. This structure is not meant to be sound; it’s meant to be words.

I wonder as to how much time I have left on my lunch, and I think about the things that I could be writing but evidently am not as right now I’m writing this. I’m trying to squeeze words out  of a rock, and by “rock” I mean I’m just writing words. I’m dismantling the thing that I said as I write it as that is a sensible thing to do.

I think I’ve said this before, but I wonder as to how much of what I listen to influences how I write. I’m wondering if what I’m listening to right now is shaping what I’m writing more than I’d like to let myself believe. I’m wondering if I can write enough words to fill however many words I’m about to write before the song ends.

This would be easier with a full keyboard, though maybe it wouldn’t, but I digress.

As sounds fill my ears I try to decode the things and I try to understand. I’m trying to understand just how much I’m letting my writing be shaped by the sounds. I know that I am being affected right now, but I wonder to the extent. I wonder.

I wonder a lot, and maybe I don’t think enough. That’s something I should probably try to work on, but is it worth working on? Aren’t there more important things to worry about? Well, thinking IS important – that’s something I need to keep in mind – but is it always important? Aren’t there times where it’s better not to think?

I don’t know. There probably are, but they aren’t coming to mind right now, so I’m going to keep on charging ahead. I’m going to keep on slinging and see what comes forward.

Hopefully this is the year where I finally get on top of everything and I get on with the getting on, and I try to achieve something I’ve been trying to achieve for a good few years now. I don’t know if I will, but I might, and if I might, I could very well do. However, it does require a lot of effort to do the thing I’m not mentioning, and I don’t know if I have the energy to do so.

The older I get, the more I want to check other things and all that stuff, and I am. I’m seeing more than I would have when I was younger, and I’m trying to keep that up. I’m trying to think and reflect more, and I’m trying to bring more people into these experiences when I feel comfortable doing so.

You know, you see things on these long drives and they may make you think, and sometimes it’s just you in the car and you’re going at some speed, just driving along and you see cleared space and openness, and sometimes a fog is there and it gradually clears as it frames everything along the way, and it’s all space, but you sometimes feel enclosed in it anyway.

There’s a certain beauty that you can see in that solitude, intentional or otherwise, and maybe it registers and maybe it doesn’t; I don’t know, but the landscape seems to roll along, and you keep on driving even though you’re tired because you need to keep on going. You need to keep on moving, and sometimes you see other cars, and you know your destination and that’s what you’re seeking, whatever it may be.

There certainly is a lot of time to think on a long drive, and maybe that isn’t the best thing. Sometimes it is good, however. But what is it that you want? What is it that I want?

I wonder how much of my desire to write is driven by writing for the sake of writing. I wonder if it’s something that I believe is in me, and I wonder if I am telling myself that. I’m not a good writer, but maybe I’m a good thinker… for a certain style of thinking, anyway. These words are more permanent than a lot of the thoughts I have, but not by much. At the end of it all, these will fade away and disappear. They’ll just linger for a little longer than my thoughts, and that’s okay. That’s not the worst thing in the world. Not much should be permanent, and I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but it certain is a thing and that’s what I deal with on most days; things.

Perhaps I just need to go on another long drive and think about things. Perhaps I need to get away from it all and take it easy, or rather just take it hard. Really think about who I am, and what I am and what I am doing, and work out what it is that I should be writing about.

I could do that, and I could do that under a darkened moon and watch as the stars are gradually revealed as the veil of light pollution falls away. Eventually that will change to dawn to day, and I’ll drive for a good long while, I think.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:39:41

It seems that when I got for a longer write what I write is a bit more cohesive… sometimes.
Anyway, I think this is a bit better than some recent stuff, or at least the second half is better.

Written at work.