Something something pen and paper.
Something something writing well.
Now that that’s pout of the way, let’s get on with it.
Right now I’m listening to some music that I need to review sooner rather than later as it’s well overdue and yet I have no idea what to say, even though I have a mostly coherent idea of what to write in my mind.
I also am feeling a bit hungry and am trying to hold off as it will be time for the land of rest and slumber soon and that is something that I just cannot back out of participating in unless I decide that I want to feel quite tired for another day, therefore impacting my ability to do stuff yet again because I’m the most brilliant person in the history of ever because I decided that the best thing in my life for me and everyone else at any given moment would be to lessen my ability to do anything so that others would feel shame and hopelessness when they saw me excel at everything without even breaking a sweat.
What was I talking about?
There’s a certain art to analysing something.
Well, perhaps not an art, but there’s a certain something to analysing something not for the purposes of enjoyment, but for trying to work out what is going on and writing something that is observational (well, as observational as you possibly can be) instead of just writing something that reeks with bias and a lack of understanding of what it is you’re trying to review (which I have done plenty of myself).
Reviewing is certainly interesting. Perhaps I should get back to writing this review instead of typing about writing reviews as all I’m doing right now is wasting my time, although that’s not anything new or unexpected and I’m not sure why I’d bother doing anything else other than wasting my own time repeatedly, although that doesn’t pay money.
Then again, neither does writing reviews.
It would seem as though no matter what, I am wasting my time.
Or am I?
The truth of the matter is that, whilst I would like to get paid for writing reviews, I don’t mind that I don’t get paid as I write because I enjoy writing. That’s why there’s so many of these posts that go nowhere and repeat the same things over and over.
Well, that and I am of limited scope, although I do continually push outward whilst moving inward at the same time as much as I can, so hopefully that does come to the benefit of all the readers here.
If not, then I can only keep on trying. Well, even if it does, I’ll keep trying anyway.
Until I can finally run through the wall that I keep bashing against, I must keep on trying. It’s the only way.
There’s no other options.
Eventually I’ll succeed, or something.
I still need ten more words to finish this post.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:33:67
Written at home.