I can only do so much in 24 hours.
I can’t help not getting a certain amount of stuff done. That is a fact.
And it sucks. Well, maybe it doesn’t suck. I colour up whatever I think a situation is.
It’s the first day of November and I have several things on my mind. I have a few goals in mind.
At the offices of Cyper, I write what I can. What I write might end up being crappy, but have to start somewhere.
The office zips quickly down the road like a fireball. I don’t have much time to write. I appreciate the time to write something.
The air is foul with micro-dust and ultra fine micro-dust. I remember walking in the night when the air was essentially black. And I did it without a mask.
Too weary to take it out.
I’m tired of lacking direction and my finances are lacking, So I’m writing down some goals. Will it help? Some direction may help a bit.
Boy, this air is crappy. My throat feels like it’s kinda loaded with sand.
Get off a little later. But not too early. Have to take a small walk. Into the micro-dust? Yeah, yeah.
I have to realize I can’t do it all. I have to choose my battles and attack accordingly. Hate? Let it rise and have its say. I have moments of helplessness.
I can only do so much. Times of stillness is necessary. Being beat is always a possibility. Losing everything is just around the corner.
What say you?