I remember why I decided to try and write in the morning. It’s much more peaceful. Enough of the world that is full of stupid people is still asleep or at least not out and about. Birds are still singing louder than the cars that pass by and the sun shines so that shadows can cast these long beautiful angles upon everything they want.
There’s a tree right outside the window of my room for the summer. I’m going to call it my tree and I will write to it because I love it. How could I not? It’s perfect and everything that I’ve ever wanted. I will be broken when it gets cut down. The tree that got away.
All I am doing now is nonsense until that tea kettle starts whistling. I’m just killing time, which at this point makes me a mass murderer. Minutes, seconds, hours and days, all dead and gone. But not today. Today looks to be very much alive still.
I try not to think about how sad and desperate I may have seemed to be in my past. I’m sure it was quite a scene but I would like to think of myself as strong or at least stronger than something. I don’t really know what I’m trying to get at with all of this, but I would like it to be better than the crap I wrote last week, and by last week I mean it was finished last night. I would still like to get this one done by noon, but I will not rush it until I have produced and extraordinarily new piece of crap.
There are tasks that need to be done and then I suppose I could bathe and finish that bowl. Hopefully, after all of that some nice pretty ideas will come into actuality. We shall see.
With only 13 minutes left until it is no longer morning, I have found myself without words, yet again. I desire to say something but just like in all those bad dreams, nothing comes out no matter how much I feel as though I’m screaming. The same thing goes for trying to run away. I never seem to be fast enough. There are obvious symbols at play here but, I’ve never been one to believe much of anything.
Don’t get me wrong, I have many beliefs. Some of them you could even consider to be quite strong, but that doesn’t mean that they are good, in the moral or ethical sense. I may not behave in a way that is conducive to success but that matters not, for this whole world is designed with parameters that only desire to be bent and broken. They want to be free, as do I. There may be a mutual agreement in the works between myself and chaos.
Morning has passed and I am still here. The time flows and it has come time that I assume the words may not find me today. Maybe it’s my longing for human comfort or something like that but I crave what I do not have and this is just how it shall be, for the time being at least. I just have to find comfort in knowing that these things may not be that bad. In fact, I know that they’re not that bad.
I want to make a bold proclamation but it’s just not in the works for me today. I’ll have to try again at a later date.