Writing Nonsense

I don’t know why I’m bothering to write, for lately it seems there is nothing to say. I’m at a loss for words and that is a rare occasion, especially when it comes to writing. I’ve become quiet on paper, and louder with voice. This to me, and many others, is very odd. I don’t know why, but I’m half enjoying it, and half despairing it, and I don’t know which I should be more. Should I be happy about the way I’ve changed, or should I wish desperately for things to be as they were? The answer to this, neither I nor anyone else knows. Perhaps there is no answer and the choice is mine alone, but I am a very indecisive person. I’ve never enjoyed making my own decisions, but I often do anyway. Wait… that’s not the right way to put, I do enjoy making my own decisions, it just depends on what the decision is about. I prefer making the decision about the important things, and then leave the other, smaller decisions to others. This attitude, I know, can be very dangerous at times, but I do not heed such warnings. I let whatever is to happen, happen, I do not interfere. I stand by and watch, see what good comes out of it, what I can do with it, and then let it pass. It matters to me very little, the certain details along the way. True, I do pay attention to the details, but I do not interfere unless it is absolutely necessary. And now I am here, having already written a whole paragraph about nothing after saying that writing at the moment is pointless. In that case I shall’ continue, and see for sure whether or not it is true that I have lost my touch. Now, I also have a particular method in my solving of problems. Should a problem come across me, and it requires immediate attention, I will of course attend to it. But, should another problem come along that also requires immediate attention, I am not the type to immediately go to that one instead. No, I have to finish the current problem first. This method has not failed me yet, but I have had complaints, mainly from the bringer of the problems. This frustrates me. For when I am already working on one problem, such a distraction as to present me with another could prove fatal for the current one. I do not like to be distracted when working on something, especially not by yet another problem. And, further, it frustrates me even more when I receive the complaints. When I do, I usually fail my current problem entirely until it’s beyond saving, and I have to give the problem to someone who is better suited to do it at the time than myself. Yes, I can work with more than one problem at a time, but not so that both come out satisfactory. If I have confused you, which I’m sure I have at some point of this, I apologize, for I did not mean for this to go on so long. But I fear it is to go on longer, since for some reason I cannot stop. My friends all say I’m the jittery jumpy type, but this should not be so. Yet still, I know it to be true. I do not know why I act that way, it just happens. An odd misfortune that could lead to much worse later on, but for now, I’m trying to slowly but surely change it. I’m trying to get back to my old routine of doing things calmly, surely, and of course thoroughly. So far, I have not made much progress, but as long as some progress is being made, I remain at ease. Should progress cease, then I will worry. But as of yet, it has not. And so, I sit here, having typed almost a full page, and once again I’ve run out of things to say. But I guess that I’ve said enough, for looking back now, I see I’ve said much more than my normal amount. And so, I bid you farewell, my strange and unknown reader, or listener, whom has stayed this far when there was no need. Maybe I will say more one day, who knows, but for now I retire and move on to something else.