It is only six in the morning, and I’m writing this on paper. I don’t usually type straight into the blog.
I was going to, this morning, but I’ve switched the beast on and it is so bright, that screen.
I have opened the curtains to let some of that early-morning light in – I usually have them closed to stop light reflecting from the screen – as an effort to –
I had something there about the contrast between the ambient light and the blazing screen.
As usual, I have too much to say all at once, and it complicates my sentences – and I split one just above – I knew it was wrong, part of it referring to the idea that had gone – even before – and part to where I currently was.
I told myself to let that complicated sentence stand – but here I am – it is a quarter past one in the afternoon, and I am typing this up – and things change again.
And I don’t necessarily keep what I had.
I have something there on the handwritten sheet – that the imperfect often says it better –
I could also assert that perfection only exists as a – point over there – towards which we could strive – but never reach, I would argue.
After a conversation, I have seen that I need to look more widely for my news – I have a favourite newspaper, but I need to keep an eye on news from other sources.
I am used to these shifting sands that make definition difficult.
There are so many nuances to a question that – it would be impossible to cover every base, but a necessity to set some – bases – I will not have goals – to set some places where certain values – yes – values – can be attached. Just to hold something there for long enough that there can be a discussion.