It’s dark and I’m wearing pants.
That has absolutely nothing to do with what I want to write about, but I thought it would be a good start for this evening, as… something.
I think I’ve written about not having any ideas to write about a few times by now.
I think I’ve written about writing a good number of times as well.
With that being said, it’s still writing, and I think that, whilst I’m essentially writing about something whilst saying I don’t have anything to write about, it still help[s me get better, assuming I’m not somehow actually staying in some sort of static place with my writing where it neither improves or worsens, thus remaining in some sort of equilibrium where I shall somehow become “The Writer”, a person whose writing must always strike balance and never change in quality, for if it does (which it inevitably will for the purposes of PLOT), there will be grave consequences that will lead to something dangerous and risky happening that can only be stopped by restoring the balance that would be found in my writing quality, but only after some things will have changed forever, such as the positioning of the objects on my desk that may make it a little bit more arduous to sit here and type away, keeping the balance of quality whilst thinking to myself “You know, I should write about how I don’t seem angry anymore, or maybe instead of that, write about how I’m sitting here, writing at the edge of my seat, as it puts me in a position of great risk and allows me to write with great intensity, despite the lacking of intensity in my writing”, whilst looking for a glass of orange juice despite not having any orange juice to drink which would inevitably force me to go up the road to by some so then I can drink it with ice after the water has been placed into the ice tray and placed in the freezer component of the fridge to change it into ice which then can be put into my glass of orange juice so then I can keep it cool, allowing me to state something about how my drink is as cool as a cucumber which would then somehow lead me to being turned into a cucumber which would cause many issues and lead to me having to go into hiding as I would be hunted down for my delicious taste as cucumbers are delicious sometimes, but not always as I find they are one of those things that should only be had periodically and not in mass quantities, like plums, which are amazingly delicious and sadly not around for the whole year as something so good can only be had for a few months for if it was any more frequent, it would be dangerous, as they’re too amazing.
So, in other words, I’m listening to a lecture and not paying attention to it.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 09:53:43
I really don’t know where I was going with this, but I was listening to a lecture whilst knocking this out.
As I didn’t pay attention, I have the joy of listening to it again, and again, and again…
I wanted to write something a bit more substantial, but I’m not in a very serious mood.
Written at my desk at home.