So sitting here, reclined in a way that is comfortable. Feet on a table. Listening to music. Trying to dig through the sunlight to reach the screen that is in front of me. Looking for a journey. Looking for something beyond the beat that is hammering away from the speakers.
Looking for a way through the whole thing. Just gotta wonder to myself. Wonder and wandering through a thick beam of sunlight that penetrates the window nearby and leads to the brightening of the small area around myself. Leads to the things that can and cannot be. Leads to some bit of synth in this music that pulses throughout the minute area in which I am currently inhabiting. Seems to scale. Seems to be something that may lead to something else. Is that even synth? Don’t know. Don’t care. It’s pleasing to the senses at the current moment.
May not be later. Don’t know. Don’t care. Pretty chuffed.
Soon I will need to extricate myself from the situation and then do something else. Soon work will need to commence. Soon the commencing to work will need to commence. There is a day of work ahead and it will be one that has a lot of work, and yet not much work either.
This is all something that weighs… not at all on my being. Just looking for the words to get across the point. The point is that I am relaxed. There is work coming up.
Therefore, there is no point that I am trying to make, but then again, maybe there is.
What is this form of screaming that I can hear and perceive? It seems to be very passionate.
I need to get into a better position. This is not as good for the wrists as I didn’t think about.
Shifted. Beat away drum beat. Let the hair fall in front of my face. My head is now tilted. The hair is moving, but very slowly. Soon it shall obscure my vision. Soon I shall be in a world of hair. So much hair. Need no cutting. Need to move it from my face. Too lazy to do so right now. In the zone. Focused. Focusing. Sticking to the focusing on the doing of what I am doing. Much to be done. Very little to be done. Feeling around in the dark. Where are the drums? They have disappeared.
Oh. There they are, once more. What is going on with this music? Don’t know. Don’t care. Pleasing to the ears. Good old throb and flow-type thing going on. Interesting stuff. Giving it a wholehearted number out of a number.
The washing machine drones on in the background, but it is not mine for this moment, for someone else has laid claim to it as they have more need of its use than I do in the present moment.
Doesn’t congeal well with the current sounds coming from the speakers, but you don’t always win them all, I guess.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:34:75
Not quite sure what happened with this one. Just kind of lost myself in the words, I guess.
Written at home.