This was sort of written quickly and sort of written slowly.
Written in bursts is a better way of putting it, I think.
This one is a little better than some of the others I’ve written.
Despite being not good writing, I think it gets the idea across quickly.
I hope you enjoy.
—
Time spent
Sitting here
Waiting for
A constant buzz
Seldom waits
Last long
For the buzz
Is relentless
It arrives
Followed by
Shrill shrieks
Into ears
Their sources
Are not seen
Yet they are
Relentless
Alright, so what I did was what I did and then I did the other thing which led to where the ocean resides on a Sunday. I don’t know as to how this all happened, but I can assure you, it was all done in a way that suggests a smile. There was no frowning on that particular day, but when you know that the marmalade was all off, then you know that there were other, much more fresh things ready for consumption.
I don’t want to get into that at the moment, however. What I do want to get into is how it is that when there isn’t, there still is on a time of the day that does not yield to the attempts to get out of the way when you need to go elsewhere other than nowhere. I know not of what it is that is up with that, but I can only try and surmise when I reminisce about times when there was more yielding to the will of the power to believe.
Now, with all of that held in high regard, it is time to take a dive into the mountain and see what troubles await. There is no one way or two ways about the whole thing, but without a shovel there might be some unpleasantries that do not nod when given the task. This is something that I too want to avoid. However, we need to bear in mind that the world is not just one, but many a population groups and so there are times when following a process may require something more than a little bit less than usual, and so with that bearing bearing out its own truth, there can be no summoning on the wind without knowing how to whilst the finest of calls within the coldest of shoulders.
I think that perhaps now is the time to talk about the ending of the writing that only parses itself and none other, for sometimes that is what writing does and sometimes knowing that writing does that is the key to opening the pathway that lies ahead, assuming there is a pathway in any capacity that can be perceived without needing to have to perceive it. I think that I won’t do that though as there is only so much time in the day and to talk about the analogues of history which are the annals of history when seen from the inverse point of view only reveals so much, so therefore there should be more hats worn on the day where the rain comes crashing down upon the very earth that sometimes is as barren as it is fertile, but only so long as the fish agree to that which ties their fins behind their tails so that they can perform a number of dancing numbers that show how it all is easily done when twisting the little pressure that help to stabilise the world on a formless Friday.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:41:60
I wanted to write something nonsensical, and I think I achieved that want.
Written at home.
Cold and cold and it is all cold. Today is a cold day. Maybe it is just cold in here. Maybe the cold is just relegated to my shoulders and what I really should do is step outside of the bedroom as it might not be so cold out there.
Is this something that I dare do? Do I dare go outside of my bedroom, even if only for a short period of time?
I believe the answer should be “yes”. However, instead of saying “yes”, what I will say is “YES”.
Maybe without so much excitement, but that’s something that can be covered a little later on in the day, assuming that I dare cover it at all.
So anyway, the decision has been made. There will be the leaving of the room. There will be the leaving of the room in search of something akin to warmth. I don’t want to generate my own so much as just find some that I can then claim as my own. I can bathe my shoulders in the world outside and let them soak up some heat and then go from there. Maybe going from there will lead back to here, but then again maybe it will lead to somewhere else that is known as “there”, but only in terms of where I was before and not where I will be later, or something.
Anyway, I guess it is time for me to leave the room. I have not prepared for this momentous event but it is one that needs undertaking and undertaking is what I shall now do for I want to leave the room and go outside and see what there is and get my warmth going. I need my shoulders warmer so they don’t lock up. I need to now warm my legs a bit as they’re starting to feel a little bit of the cold.
Maybe I will need to generate my own warmth after all.
This is not something that I want to face up to, but perhaps it really is the way forward. If it is indeed the case, then I guess what I will do is a little bit of walking spread over a lengthy period. Maybe instead of a little bit, I will do a lot. I will make sure to walk a lot and I will walk at an accelerated pace. This could lead to something new. Maybe it won’t lead to anything at all, but the hope is that it will lead to something new.
Wait a minute; the hope was to warm my shoulders. Then it was to also warm my legs. The act of warming was to be done with as little effort as possible. Now I am talking about going on a walk of considerable length and I don’t want to do that right now. It is not the best idea considering the current situation in Sydney. There are other things that need to be done and there are other things that can be done without worrying about going outside.
Perhaps there should be some sort of exercise inside that will help with the staying warm, but instead of that maybe what I really should do is get a bunch of blankets and wrap myself in said blankets and then, once I am in all the blankets, sit back down here and do very little in the way of movement until I am in a position where I am much warmer. Then I can get on with the doing of things and from there I can also get on with staying warm.
Now that I think about it, between now and the getting warm. what is it that I do in the interim? I still have to live through being slightly cold for a short period of time and that is not something that I quite want to experience. There are other things that I want to experience; that is not something on the list that I consider desirable. However, sitting here might just end up extending the issue of being cold. However, there also is hope that somehow I end up warming up with little, if any effort exuded and if I get up to warm up, then that chance might go away as I will no longer be sitting here waiting tow arm up and all of that other tuff that might just happen from sitting here and doing very little.
Maybe I should not worry about this and just get on with it as all I am doing by not getting up is increasing the risk of staying slightly cold for a longer period of time, when if I take affirmative action I will almost guarantee my success and warm up and then be able to get on with other thigs and that will be some sort of victory. That is something that I need to keep in mind and I know that, as much as I want to be lazy, there just isn’t going to be an easy way out if I stay lazy, though there will.
I guess that, now that I have thought of all of this, I should stop postponing the desirable and get on with it all. I should take on this challenge and leave my room and warm up and then go to somewhere else in the house and warm up a little more. Once I have done this, then perhaps it will be a good time to return to the bedroom. Then I will be in a better position to sit here and be warm. Maybe I can grab a few blankets on the way and then have them wrapped around me in order to stay warm and then once I have done that I will truly be in the best position for myself to be in at that particular juncture in time.
Then again, maybe someone else can grab blankets for me, though that too requires effort.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 10:44:58
I was hoping to write some sort of loose fiction with this one.
Instead I didn’t but I’m content with the result.
It’s a bit of a mess but I think it ties into the suggested indecision a little better than some of my other writings.
Written at home.
Photos of a fountain at Sydney Olympic Park.
What I like about these photos are the clarity in them. I think I did a decent job of capturing the water in motion without losing too much detail.
I also like how the arc of the water works to compliment the fountain’s structure.
It almost feels like something continuous rather than the fountain and the water coming out.
I think that these two photos do a decent job of showing how the fountain’s appearance (or at least part of it) can seem like it changes a fair bit just by viewing it from a different angle.
This is my submission into the one hundred-and-fifty-fourth Lens-Artists Photo Challenge.
The theme for this one is “One Photo Two Ways“.
The challenge is hosted by four people and cycles weekly:
Week 1 – Patti
Week 2 – Ann-Christine aka Leya
Week 3 – Amy
Week 4 – Tina
Tina is curating this week’s challenge. For July each challenge will be guest-curated, and each theme has been announced.
The curators and themes are:
July 3rd – John Steiner of Journeys With Johnbo: “On the Water”
July 10th – Anne Sandler of Slow Shutter Speed: “Black and White”
July 17th – Rusha Sams of Oh The Places We See: “Getting Away”
July 24th – Beth Smith of Wandering Dawgs: “Along Back Country Roads”
July 31st – Ana Campo of Anvica’s Gallery: “Postcards”
I recommend participating in the challenges. They’re enjoyable and allow room for interpretation of the theme without straying too far. If you don’t participate, then I recommend that you at least check out what others of the Lens-Artists community are submitting.
I hope you enjoy.
A string of words can start a collection of paragraphs, but the hope is always that they make sense, but they may not and that is okay at the current moment. What the moment needs is a little bit of writing and there will be a lot of writing so as to throw the moment away and out of its balance and then send everything spiraling off in a direction that would best not be preferred, but is anyway as sometimes that is the way that things go.
Now that that is out of the way, I need to clarify that, yes, this will be a series of words connected by their being typed in an order that is created in order to create a string of words in the form of sentences in the hopes that somehow there is something that might just be gleaned from all of this, assuming there is anything to glean at all.
Well, now that that is also out of the way, I think it is time that I get on with whatever it is that needs to be gotten on with, but perhaps instead of that I should take a break and find whatever meaning there is to be found in all of this. I don’t actually know if there is, but perhaps there is and in thinking that, that perhaps means that perhaps I should go digging and see what there is, but instead of digging I’m just going to roll my way over to wherever I want to be and hope that somehow that reveals something else.
There might just be loose threads and it would be up to me to follow them, but only through the act of rolling, for perhaps the threads will not be so visible if I approach them in any other manner. Perhaps there is something else that needs to be considered in my rolling. Maybe I would need to go for a gentle roll rather than a firm and furious one, for sometimes approach can end up changing the shape of the whole thing and then you end up with a mess if you are not careful. I need to be careful and make sure that the whole thing is okay. Once the threads are discovered, then I can be a little more careless, but only a little. There is no telling as to what could happen if I am too careless. I might accidentally overplay my hand and then there will be no strategy left that I could claim as my own.
I think that, in saying all of that, I need to think of other things to get across, but there is only so much that I can do with what time I have, so instead of that I will think of this and see where that all takes me. There is a chance that it’ll take me nowhere at all, but then again perhaps I’ll discover something I knew not of before.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 04:56:85
I managed to switch off a fair bit for this one.
The result isn’t great, but I’m content with the writing.
Written at home.
This was quick and written over one listen, though with a few early restarts so I could keep some pace going. Then I remembered that the song repeats itself.
I found it somewhat-difficult to write about this song. Perhaps it’s due to it feeling really short. Not sure.
Motoi Sakuraba’s (桜庭 統) “The First Book” is one of the songs used in Golden Sun. Unfortunately it does not appear as though there was ever an official release of the soundtrack; nor am I certain that “The First Book” is the actual title of the song, but at the very least that is what the song is known as.
I hope you enjoy.
—
A rising of strings, warm over a steady beat. Rises and falls, grand and triumphant, though this is only the start.
Looping around and the beat fills out more, building on the adventure to come. The fall lasts a little longer this time, then leads into a new section that almost seems like it’s a moment for a quick breather, though it remains as energetic as before. It keeps the sense of movement going before shifting into something just as triumphant as before.
The melody returns to its starting point and those feelings are reinforced. A slight tinge of sadness comes through, but it is far off in the background. Whilst this is a beginning, this also is a farewell of sorts. A long stretch lies ahead, though it doesn’t always seem that way.
And so the first steps are taken as the song ends.
Some sort of field burning I believe.
The same smoke as seen in this photo.
I like how the smoke draws attention and almost seems to disturb the image. It breaks what feels like is meant to be uniform scenery.
The sunset’s colours create a warmth whilst the long shadows make things feel a little small, I think.
I hope you enjoy.
There were a few pauses and rewinds whilst writing this one. My writing started really slow and I gradually picked up speed and I may have been overthinking some things. There was also some things I wanted to clarify to make sure that I was hearing them correctly, though I could’ve easily had a few repeats going to clarify what I felt I needed to clarify.
Seatbelts’ (シートベルツ) “Space Lion” is from the first of Cowboy Bebop‘s soundtrack albums released, which goes by the name of Cowboy Bebop.
I hope you enjoy.
—
A low rumble, short. From there a low, calm and melancholic synth comes forward. Atmospheric and as expansive as it is narrow. Smooth. Saxophone plays over, lingering and perhaps pensive. The rumble periodically reappears, though much softer now that there is more happening. It almost feels as though it is a lamentation. There is a passion in there, but this is not uplifting; nor is it downbeat.
Steady, gentle percussion comes in and provides more of a frame and helps define the steady rhythm. The synth pulls back and gently cascades. The saxophone follows. Something grows in sound and fades away underneath everything. Soon it draws forward, then finds itself focused within a definitive and striking, yet gentle sound of piano and bass.
The saxophone has pulled away, leaving the other instrumentation to play out, though now with vocals that enhance and build on the sound. There seems to be some sort of celebration, though not necessarily in a strictly uplifting and joyous sense.
A shift back to the cascading and and saxophone returns. This almost is a pause and perhaps it is a space for reflection. Once more sounds build up, then return to the section that included vocals. Now the saxophone has joined in and this is brighter. The melancholy remains. The sense of reflection is strong, but there is a stronger sense of the uplifting. It still is not a joyous and happy celebration, but it is less weighted. The atmosphere expands and permeates and there is something that almost feels as though a sense of relief.
Eventually the song finds its way to its closing section. The instruments fade out, leaving only percussion as the song ends.
Frost on the window that slowly dissipates is what I can see at the moment. It blurs things; makes them more of an impression of themselves, though only when it is quite thick.
Actually not sure if that is frost or condensation. Probably condensation. Anyway.
It blurs and smears the image of what is outside, though not entirely. In some ways it also softens the image. Softening might be better than blurring as blurring does not seem to diminish the brightness of sunlight shining off of something. The sunlight that is visible through the hitting of objects almost seems more harsh than usual, and this of course is not something that I find appreciable as when I turn my head the wrong way I see that light and it hits the eyes in a way that is most uncomfortable, which means that I should probably stop looking at that light and instead look at other things so as to be able to see those other things. Need to preserve eyesight to the best of my ability and all that other stuff.
I sit here and I type this out, but I feel as though all that I am really doing is not really typing anything out so much as I am just vomiting words onto an empty page, rendering it less empty and not full. There still remains plenty of space but that is not something I want to get into too much. There are other things that I need to get into, but instead of those I probably will instead focus on this and get this out of the way and then move toward the other things, but I’ve said that far too many times before and so we all know as to how all of this will go at this point. We all know that this will go nowhere and due to that going nowhere, I will not get anywhere. I will continue to rev the engine but not take the vehicle in question out of parking mode. Doing so might be far too easy and who wants some sort of ease in this day and age? Who would not want to challenge themselves by writing the same thing over and over until they cannot write it anymore, then decide to shift direction by writing the same thing over and over again? Who would not want to do that?
I cannot think of any reason as to why anyone would want to do anything different. Such an idea is baffling to the senses and so I continue to do the thing that I don’t want to do so as to be able to do it and get on with the other things and all that other stuff. I do it because I don’t know why I do it, but at least I’m no longer staring out a window that has a form of sunlight that is harsh to the eyes visible from a certain angle.
Probably will, however.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:20:76
Fast, though this is more mess stuff that doesn’t really go anywhere.
Written at home.
This was taken at Albury station.
I tried a few times to get a shot of this particular scene that I thought worked. Can’t quite remember what issues I was encountering, but I think they mostly had to do with framing.
I like that in this image you can see how lighting can easily affect appearance and tone.
I also like the sense of symmetry from the roof and pillars.
This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week.
I suggest checking out Leanne’s photography, as well as checking out what other people submit.
A lot of what people are submitting will likely end up here.
I hope you enjoy.
Stupidity Hole 