Goal of the day: 383 words. Written: 421.
Could you just imagine what you are reading here? Just imagine all that text, his emotions and thoughts here... And shut up?
I'm getting angry.
I feel like I'm pushing myself. I squeeze like a lemon into a cup.
I. I don't know what to write anymore.
* Daniel sits at his kitchen table for a good eight minutes, leaning his head on his hand, looking at the last written words and wondering what happened here. *
I don't know what happened.
Maybe it's because today is the first day I feel better after the flu. Or... Maybe anyway - today is so different. Or something else. But I have absolutely no idea what to write and what to tell.
I'm tired.
Four damn months. I started in early October and now it's early February. Percent by percent, the number of words went from 100 to 383... Soon - 500.
But after all, this is only the easy third of the year! Here's the easy part! I knew that this third of the daily word limit was going to rise as slowly as the grass that has been buried under winter snow in spring.
And there are two thirds left. The middle one, from 400 to 1800 words per day. And the last one, with a staggering jump of 1800 to 3740 words (and the last thousand in the last month).
* Daniel moves the mouse over the scale of the word calculator. This one, in his appliqué, takes the form of an unnumbered strip that turns from white to black. The program shows that today's limit is 197 words short. *
* After sitting down and thinking about what to write, he decides to go for a walk. *
I went to the old people's house. They live right here - their house is only 15 meters from mine. Grandma invited me for the day - I thought what to expect here...
…It turns out today is Grandpa's 80th birthday! Distant relatives arrived: Birutė and Teresė (both similar age to grandfather), the table was full of food. Ooo. Did not expect.
I visited, mentioned, congratulated.
And while listening to another ordinary story of Teresa, this time about her childhood and how she had to see Jews being led to be shot when she was only four (if I heard correctly), I thought:
"And that's good talking."
Although this is just a turn of the birthday speech to a troubled childhood, it was completely unheard of for me, new, and so interesting! After all, how strange and terrible all this must have looked from the eyes of a little girl.
And this gave me another package of information about those times in Lithuania. Completely new.
It was good speaking because it was natural, interesting and useful. Memorable.
And maybe I should write like that? Maybe I don't know what to write anymore because I forgot the most important thing - to write about what I learn? Maybe I should study more and pour more? Maybe I forgot to put the contents in my grinder and started to idle its mechanism?
* Thinks. Short this time. *
Maybe I just need more adventure.
No matter how unexpected the 80th birthday celebrations are.
Because hey, ideas immediately appeared after him. And I already know what I can write about tomorrow!
delighted,
Daniel