This will be the place I come to write. I will not write lurid prose or exotic poetry. I will write words and things. This exercise in writing words and things will be to produce a habit for writing, or at least, that is the goal. 1:25 will roll into 1:30, and I will have written during that time. I do not expect anything to come of this, nothing worthwhile, at least, just more words and things. The theme will be words and things; the plot will be more words and more things. An increasing number of words and things will effuse across the page under the guidance of my twitching fingers across the keyboard. That is all. There will be nothing special or worthwhile about this page, nor about its contents. I will not even insert a new paragraph or page break during this writing session, though again, once this is done, there will be nothing produced which merits the activity being called a writing session. My fingers must keep moving; the words and things must keep falling out and filling up the page; the spice must flow. I need to read Dune. And more Asimov. I thought about writing a post concerning “impostor syndrome” and using my experiences in academia as the guideline, as even though I have a master’s degree, I have not read half as much as some of my conversants with fewer degrees. And the time is up. Time to stop writing. Time to end these pointless words and things.