Five-Hundred Word Challenge 299: Back from the Field Trip

Posted on September 18, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

Well, I’m back from the field trip.

It was about as fun as something that isn’t entirely fun is fun.

Well, there was some fun.

It was nice to be about of the city and somewhere down south, but spending the majority of the being away from where we were staying on a bus was not very fun.

Nor was standing around listening to talking.

The talking was fine up until a point, but I do understand as t o why there was a lot of it.
there was a lot of information that needed to be discussed and there was a lot of information that needed to be divulged in order for us to learn what we needed to learn.

It may have just been a little too information heavy for the field trip.

There was a little bit of field work. There was a lot of driving. There were a lot of photos taken.

There were things.

There were birds that were seen.

There were plenty of trees but not all of them were photographed. That would have taken far too long to do.

I have slept well. I feel as though I am well-rested.

I do not feel as though I could conquer the world right now.

I do know that I should probably be in more  pain than I am, so I’m happy about not being in so much pain.

I also know that I’m typing far slower than I normally would be typing.
That may have to do with not having done much writing over the past few days. It may also have to do with injuring a muscle in my arm.

Who knows?

The possibilities are endless!

well, it’s a nice day outside and I’m not in some sort of motion other than the ones that I am making just by making basic movement.

Wait.

I should be saying that I’m glad to not be inside something and be getting driven around with a bunch of  other people. It makes me a little antsy.

I’m glad to be in front of a computer right now. I’m glad that the drilling sound outside of the computer lab.

I’m glad that the person next to me thinks that I’m a genius when it comes to writing.

I can’t read their thoughts, but I do know that that’s what they think!

With that put to the side, I am glad to be back at the moment, but I think that that is because the field trip was somewhat intense. It was really good to get away from Sydney, but at the same time I do wish that there had been more time to relax.

Still, a field trip is for  learning and research and in that regard it was highly productive.

Now it is time to get back to the learning in the room with the people, but with more space between us.

Well, I guess it is time to start paying attention so I can learn.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:31:89

well, it was slower than I had hoped and it was also worse than I hoped, but it is done.

Written at UNSW.

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Heading to Bundeena

Posted on September 17, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

I took this photo whilst on the Bundeena Ferry whilst heading to Bundeena.

I like the trail left by the ferry, as well as how the land appears to be going to meet the water.

I also like how the land cuts into the blue.

I hope you enjoy.

image

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Chaka Khan Dream

Posted on September 17, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

So I was on the bus. There were other people on the bus.
The bus was moving along.

One of the screens on the bus began changing from what was displayed before.
Its background was white and the text was black.

Some of the text began slowly appearing and it was forming “Chaka Han” on the screen.

I thought to myself “who would be stupid enough to read that out?”. My question was quickly answered.
There was an old lady who began to read it out, so I yelled at her to stop so as to interrupt her.

She was then getting off the bus. The bus swerved and she fell off.

We were shocked.

Very shortly after she got up. I think we were driving at this point (it’s possible that we weren’t), but she got up from where she had fallen off and began walking away, completely fine.

I said something and then everyone on the bus began to applaud me because I saved her. I think. They may have been applauding as I was right. I don’t know.

The next thing that happened was some person and I were entering a church at night.
We went through the heavy, large wooden door entry and switched on the lights at the light switch, which was modern. Something that was sitting on the arch of one of the doorways inside quickly dashed away. It was hard to make it out.

The light revealed a very ornate, large church.
There was a huge black metal door that needed to be lowered in front of the wooden door. Aside from the edges, It looked like chicken wire, but much sturdier.

I was talking to the person about Chaka Khan and saying it couldn’t be allowed to get out, guessing that it was afraid of the light due to it dashing away, therefore leading to us switching on another light.

It was not day outside, but also night.

Then there was another person who showed up.

They lived in the church (I think) but they were not a priest or religious-type.

They seemed annoyed or angry about the risk of Chaka Khan getting out.
I said that it was daytime outside so it didn’t matter.
They said that it didn’t matter if it was day.
Then I asked “what if it tried to get out through the windows?”.
They then said that it wouldn’t.

Then, from the darkness of a long hallway, a creature of a monochromatic white started approaching us.

It was Chaka Khan.

It looked a bit like Shenlong from Chinese Mythology, except it was maybe two metres long and had no legs and did not bend. It had a flowing white fur.

It gradually approached us and it was a combination of stop motion clay and C.G.I.

When it gradually came out of the shadows a disembodied voice was heard saying “CHAKA HAN”.

It flew around us but instead of looking like it was there, it looked like it had been inserted into the scene, not bending whilst flying about.

There was shock.

When it flew low I swung my keys on my key chain into it but they passed through, cutting through in a was that looked bad.

I said something about how it didn’t work.

Then Chaka Khan flew too low.

It hit the ground and then I repeatedly swung my keys into its top area as this was now working.

Then Chaka Khan was dead.

The person that appeared said that Chaka Khan would come back to life.

Then I woke up.

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Transmission Tower Once More.

Posted on September 16, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

Here’s the transmission tower that Ewe and I saw, except now with it being more visible.

Well, visible in a different way.

A tall structure that can be seen as imposing in its height and bony body.

I hope you enjoy.

image

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 298: To Type Faster than he Previously Thought

Posted on September 16, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

I do not know as to why I am attempting this once more, but I have a few minutes before I finish work, so why not?

Well, here goes:

Once upon a time there was a guy who was in front of a computer. He was trying to write as fast as he could as he wanted to see if he could write really fast. Of course, this was a fairly fruitless endeavour as he already could write really fast, and with few errors to boot. However, this was someone who for some reason wanted to see if he could go faster than he previously thought, spelling be damned!

So off he went. A key was struck, followed by another. This continued on. He ignored his job for some reason, and kept on banging away because he really wanted to see what he could come up with so long as he threw everything away other than the desire to type as quickly as possible and see what came out of the result.

He kept on typing away, sweat forming on his head and slowly pouring down his face and onto the keys, causing traction to reduce and making him slip up a little more than intended. However, the heat from his fingers moving really quickly made the sweat evaporate really fast and so on he went.

There was little danger, little risk and little time for faffing about.

He kept on racing, wearing out those keys far faster than they had ever before.

It was as if he was possessed by something that was beyond him. Some sort of determination that was beyond the usual procrastination.

There was a desire to succeed far better than he had ever ever succeeded before and so he raced on into the night, well after his shift had finished, continually banging away to see if he could get to the end before the timer beat him to the end.

It was intense, but only in his mind. All that the people around him could hear was the banging of the keyboard as he worked himself into a frenzy, hitting the keys faster and faster, trying to race against time in a race where he was the only competitor.

When the seat adjustment came in, it threw everything out the window. Suddenly he was typing much slower. It was quite hard to keep a good angle of body to desk and his fingers began to hurt, yet he pushed on through these dangerous trials and tribulations, for there was something to reach and he was going to reach i0t as soon as he could, danger be damned.

There was a second wind and soon the right position was once more found.

The typing was as intense as it was furious. He kept on going, pushing on through the whole thing and soon there was some sort of success.

He decided to slow down a bit because his fingers were hurting.

There would be success eventually.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:20:76

So I was writing about my attempt to write faster than usual whilst the attempt was in action and it came out somewhat messy.

This is also  partially fictitious.

Written at work.

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To Kings Cross

Posted on September 15, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

Here’s a photo of a train heading to Kings Cross.

It’s one of the smoother long exposures of a train that I’ve captured.

I think that it contrasts well with the night.

I hope you enjoy.

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One Thousand Word Challenge 24: Remembering Stuff and Something About a Field Trip

Posted on September 15, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

Right now I am sitting here, waiting for things to happen.

I’ve been remembering things that happened when I was a little kid. Nothing bad or good. Just things.

I remember them… not vividly, but well enough to know that they are indeed things that had happened.

Things like playing on a Nintendo 64 that was in a Rentlo in Five Dock during the afternoon of a school day after school had finished.

Nothing major. Nothing bad. Nothing good. Just things.

I’m not sure as to why I am remembering something so uneventful, but I do think that it is interesting.

Well, I think that it is interesting to some extent.

It makes me wonder as to what else I will remember down the track.

Whilst you are reading this now, I wrote this before it was put up on here as instead of doing the right thing and giving myself a break, I decided that the best course of action would be to write enough for the next three days (as of this writing) as I will be on a field trip, learning new things.

Will I be remembering old things? I don’t know.

I don’t imagine that it is actually mysterious as to how memory works, but to me it is.
I don’t expect to remember things from my childhood.

I wonder if that perhaps I am merely ruminating on my life, looking inward as I grow older, despite not being anywhere close to being old.

Perhaps I am merely remembering things that had been forgotten for their purpose was nonexistent.

Perhaps I am remembering these things as my life is folding in upon itself, slowly compressing and layering in order to build a stronger, better version of myself.

I don’t know if I’ll ever know the answers.

I don’t think that I care to ever know the answers.

I know that right now, as this is going up to be read by you, I will either be getting ready to  head to uni so I can go on my field trip, or I will be on my way to UNSW in order to catch the bus that kicks off the field trip.

I do know that right now I am writing this bit of text, trying to not think too hard about what I am writing whilst trying to keep the text as grounded in reality as possible as I am just trying to write about my life and not much else right now.

I also know that I am writing it for the future and when it will be read in the present it will have been written in the past.

Can you tell that I’m going in circles and trying hard to not make it look like that?

Can you tell?

Can you tell that I’m running out of things to write and I’m not yet at five-hundred words?

Can you tell that I’m trying so very hard to push this out to one thousand words?

I guess that this resembles some sort of testament to my ability to really stretch out what I’m writing about.

Well, usually it would be because usually I’m not just repeating myself over and over and over and so on.

I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to this field trip. I can think of other things that I’d rather be doing.

The problem is that I cannot skip it, for it is important in teaching myself (as well as the other students that will be on the field trip) how to do certain kinds of field work. I need to know this stuff because it is stuff that I may end up using down the line of my life.

If not, it is important as I get to get out of the city and see how to do other things whilst also being among nature.

Well, among some of nature. Not too much, but enough to say that I’ll be away from civilization, if only a small amount of it and not as much as I’d truly like.

I wonder if the act of being on this field trip will then manifest itself as a memory down the track.

I wonder if one day I’ll be doing something, or perhaps nothing, just lying in bed with my thoughts drifting elsewhere and the field trip will pop into my mind, once thought long forgotten but making itself apparent once more.

I wonder if I will remember the writing about this, one day down the track when I am doing something completely unrelated.

I wonder if there is any point top wondering about what I am wondering about right now.

Perhaps I should worry about something else, although I’m not feeling worried right now.

I just feel like doing something other than going on a field trip, such as complaining.

I really am whinging about it now, I think.

Or am I?

I think I’m just writing and not whinging, but the words make it sound like I’m whinging.

I don’t want to go anywhere, I want to stay home, blah blah blah.

You get the idea.

I’ll have fun, I’ll enjoy my time away and I’ll come back tired yet feeling somewhat satisfied whilst also stressed as it’s a few more days where I cannot work on the study that I need to work on, but sometimes that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

There’s little I can do about it at the moment, but I think I will be fine.

I think that I’m more not wanting to do the packing for this than anything else, although that will  be an easy thing to do.

I can’t believe that the possibility of me being worried about the packing is something that could occur.

I think that the most important thing right now is that I don’t bother thinking about it until I need to, and that I get back to thinking about other things that are currently far more important.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 14:18:02

Well, that was an interesting bit of writing whilst it was being written.

Maybe it’s a bit pithy in reading.

Written at work.

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Bare Structure

Posted on September 14, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

There’s a building in the city that has gradually been torn down and its skeletal structure left bare.

I think that they’ll take that apart as well.

Here’s one of the photos that I took.

I’d been meaning to take a photo for a while before I finally did.

There’s a great amount of angularity and pattern in the structure.

I like how old and dilapidated it looks as there’s a fair bit of rust and dirt on the structure.

I also like as to how much space there is between each bar as, combined with the rust and dirt as well as the relative slenderness of the structure, it looks somewhat odd.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 297: Four Wheels Spun Fast

Posted on September 14, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

The sound of a motor roaring along gradually approached along the great stretch of road that sat in the flat plains, stretching beyond the horizon in a land with no edges.

Four wheels spun fast along the road, carrying its chassis and occupants along with a speed that would not ever dare be seen in the city.

In the eyes of the driver was a stare a thousand yards long, great focus but not looking at anything.

They had been driving for days with no direction in particular, not really looking for anything other than to get away from what they had been surrounded by.

Their face was stone, co-d and still. They were bitter and dejected, not thinking about anything, or at the least trying not to think about anything.

They knew that running away would not solve anything, but they also knew that they needed to get away from all the shallow bullshit of the city, at least for a little while.

It had become too much. There had been no release, no escape for so long and all that they were left with was rage eating at them.

Rage, stress and pressure. Little more than those.

It lead to a sense of dejection that they had so desperately tried to avoid.

There wasn’t much packed. Just enough.

There was no announcement. They just needed to go and did not faff about, for that may have lead to them staying longer and putting up with a bad situation growing far worse.

All that was built around them was beginning to look like more things pressing down upon their back, pushing harder and harder, trying to snap their spine with a dissatisfying cracking sound.

Through the window of their car rocketing along the highway they could see stretches of emptiness that was almost inviting and comforting. Yet it could not reach them for all they could see was something that may have lied ahead of them.

There were no other vehicles, a scant amount of animals and low shrubs that marked the earth.

There was still green, but it seemed old in a way that complimented the bare soil that could easily be made out, for it was more on show than anything else.

It was an endless space that no one would touch for it would require too much effort for such a little payoff.

To them, it seemed almost as tho-ugh the land was as bitter as they were, though they did not care for they were not the land and the land was not what they were trying to find.

All they did whilst shooting down the highway was continue to stare forward, stone look on their face, still features beyond what was required.

Their mind was awash with thoughts, yet they were not thinking.

They needed to move and keep on going for the time being.

They could rest later.

For now their car would carry them, cutting through the vast silence of the landscape.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 09:51:33

I think I was trying to make this more about the land than I was about anything else, but that’s not quite how it turned out.

I think that whilst there is a display of some decent writing, this could have been significantly better than it turned out to be.

Written at work.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 296: The Desk

Posted on September 13, 2017 by Stupidity Hole

There was a subtle, yet over light that was cast on the desk as it sat there awaiting for someone to come in and use it once more.

It had been a long time since the desk had been used in that house.

It had been a long time before then since the desk had been used at all.

The last time had been many a moon prior, when it was owned by someone else entirely.

Once it had been passed on to the local second hand store, the desk spent a long time sitting in a window with a price that was most certainly not cheap, yet still far less than what a creation of its stature would normally require.

It was strong and sturdy with a surface that, despite many years of use, remained undamaged, still in a condition most pristine and surprising.

It had been kept away from moisture and still had its original finish.

The person who had the desk built it from hand over a long time, working to make sure that it was as good a desk as it could be, made from the finest wood that could be found.

It had a certain class and elegance, a certain power to it that stated that it was of a high quality, made with care and a strong knowledge of the craft of table building.

It had seen many a pen and paper, along with the occasional typewriter.

Its surface was smooth yet gripping.

It truly was a desk that should be owned.

Eventually it was bought by someone who wanted to begin writing and were moving into a new home.

To a room the desk was assigned and with great care it was delivered and brought into the room, placed in the right position that would maximise its efficiency.

Pens, pencils and papers were bought in preparation for when the writing would begin.

The curtains were left closed until it was time for the new owner to begin writing.

Days passed by without the door opening.

Soon it was weeks, months, a year. The door did not open. It was passed by many a time, but not once was it opened.

Dust began to gather on the desk, covering its pristine surface as well as all that which had been bought for intended use.

Throughout the seasons the layer grew thick, almost as though the desk was growing some sort of heavy fur covering.

The desk was not used and it seemed to be forgotten about.

It was a beautiful piece of furniture put into a room that was not seeing use.
It was put into a room that no one stepped into.

It was not being used to write on, nor were its drawers being filled.

The pens and pencils remained silent and the paper did not move.

And so the desk remained there in its position in a dark room, waiting for when it would once more be used and full appreciated.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:55:12

Here is a story about a desk.

It’s alright.

Could have been better.

Written at work.

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