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.