The ebb and the flow of what you should know
In this (potentially short) series of posts, I pull out and partially complete whatever I find at the top of my Drafts bin. I’m going for Drafts Bin Zero.
This one was started days ago, and then abandoned, once it became apparent the title was more interesting than what I had to say about it.
Days go by and I haven’t the time for writing.
And then others, it’s the reading that doesn’t get done.
I have days when I do both, and those when I do neither, at all.
And this is a pattern.
And that pattern repeats.
In trying to start some things, I have often faltered.
I fail whole-heartedly, in my half-hearted flailing.
I learn that my limits are indeed limiting.
The hours just plain go, and most of the time, far too fast.
Where are all the stories I meant to write, one day?
Remember my dreams?
I was going to make a game.
I was going to draw some pictures.
I was going to have kids in between those selfish other things.
I had all this time, once – it’s half-or-more gone now.
I haven’t done everything that I had thought I would do.
I’ve done other things though, so it’s not at all been all for naught.
I had another day today, and I walked places.
I tried to slow down a little.
And just be.
And I did… I was.
For a short time, I just was.
It was nice.
I should do that more: doing nothing in particular.
Almost every day, I wake up with an idea of what I might do with the rest of it.
By the end of the day, Things have often happened.
Though often not those same Things I had thought might.
Then maybe more ideas come.
Then the sleep does… will it be more or less, is anybody’s guess.
I otherwise always have to be talking, typing, walking, or griping.
Every third or fourth time, I throw in an unsolicited rhyme.
I’m very fidgety.
It’s annoying, sometimes, it really is.
It gets older, by the day.
So do I.
But I won’t let myself be done, yet.
Not until I finally am.