Years get behind you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Make use of the time — you will lose it anyway. It’s less of a loss if you at least moved yourself forward.
Move yourself… Nothing else moves you. All other motion is just drift, but everything drifts around you as well and so that motion all cancels out.
Zero in, focus, laser-cut your purpose out of the plain background of everyday life with beams from your eyeballs. The purpose is yours if you can find it.
Sometimes I think long paragraphs are not for me. I get a certain rhythm going like a poem and I just don’t have anything more to say on one subject and need a new line. Doesn’t matter. I just want to get out of the habit of using all those goddamn ellipses. Those… things… are… indecisive… poison. Pick a punctuation mark and stick with it?
The problem is that I’m trying to carry on a conversation at the same time as I’m writing this. The flow isn’t even necessarily the point, although it’s nice to get into that state. No, the purpose is to push yourself forward when there isn’t necessarily a clear way. The point is to wade through the muck of a blank screen and find some reason you want to slam these keys early in the morning and see what you have before you. It’s a lot of laughter, it’s a bit of enjoyment that comes as a byproduct of imagining something on the other side of this swamp that you want to obtain.
None of it needs to make sense to anyone else. None of it has to come together for you, it just has to speak to you and sound nice to you. It can be a joke that’s only funny to you, it can be a meaning that only attracts you. Your personal meaning is a bug zapper tuned to the frequency that resonates only with you, drawing you and only you to your individual fate.
“All death is certain, the only thing is to live well.”
Too bad I have to end it on someone else’s words but there you go.