Fear’s Left-overs

Free time? We manage our obligations and then squish our interests into the corners of our lives. Why? The bills must be paid, yes, but to what detriment? To my artistic detriment; I wilt. I resent having to work. I only like working as much as I have to, and I don’t much care if that looks lazy. I know I’m not lazy.

Responsibility for our actions is crucial. I’ve picked my expenses and now they weigh me down. I must strive to manage this better. My job is lovely, but if doesn’t feel voluntary, I feel like a prisoner to my consumerism. I wanted a nice truck, to go work my ass off, to pay for the truck. How stupid. Please remember this next time. The common voice got to you! You know not to believe that bellow of nonsense!

So here I am, writing in my mornings before a shower, contemplating not showering, so I can get my thoughts together. I have a world in my mind to get out on paper. It takes more planning than my rambles but I ramble just because…I’m nervous to be judged for a work I put more energy into. These short blurbs I can shrug off. I want to commit myself to my project and I’m doing that right now.

But but but but what if I run out of excuses?!

I vow to my creative self to let my weird wash over and the give my middle finger to any obstacle in my way.

It’s show time.


26 February 2018