What am I doing right now? What am I writing about? Where am I going? These are all questions.
These are not just questions; they are questions I just asked, and now I have to wonder: What purpose do they serve?
They serve to make one think and in thinking one might ruminate about what they mean. What do they mean? Do they mean? Maybe the median. I don’t know; I’m not a mathemagician.
So I sit here and I think. I think about what the questions might offer and I think about what a time it is to be alive. I think about what it is that I am doing and how it is that I still am. I think about not thinking at all, and if that is a thing that can happen, or if we are all doomed to think and just forget that we think sometimes.
Sometimes I wonder about writing things and, even though I try not to be superstitious, how much those things could tempt fate, if they can at all, and then I delete them. I do not publish them for I do not want to put myself into a position where I’ve put something forward that risks catching the eyes of the universe and putting me into a position that is a cruel trickery, so I try not to. Probably tempt fate far more often than I do, really, but I imagine most do and they’re not even aware, or something.
Where am I going? What am I doing right now? What am I writing about? These are things to think about and they have answers, and sure, I could just answer them, but the answers are obvious and I don’t want to be too annoying. I’d rather think about them. I’d rather think about them and perhaps move on after some time. Issue is that I’ve already answered them and are ready to move on. Perhaps now is not the time to be trying to think about these questions. Maybe later. Maybe when I’m a little better rested. I don’t know.
What I do know is that as I sit here and listen to music I’m writing this out and then I need to get up, get ready and head out so I can pick up my partner from work, but I’ll allow myself a little bit of time to walk. A slight indulgence, and maybe I’ll think about other things during that walk. Maybe I’ll think about how I’m trying to deal with issues that plague my life at the current time; maybe I’ll think about the built environment, and how much of it we can dismantle before it is too much.
I think most people would resist most restoration of an idea of the natural, but it is something that needs to be done.
Right now I’m thinking about these questions, but I don’t think I am. I think I’m just telling myself I am rather than actually thinking.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:34:37
This is some pretty surface level stuff, but it’s the fun kind of surface level to write.
Written at home.
Stupidity Hole 