Do you ever feel like you are running out of time? Feel like the window of opportunity is sliding closed and the weight of the thing is too much to lift again? That you’ve made too many mistakes and moved too far away from the path in order to have any lasting success? I like to call that Tuesday.
And six other names.
My fear of mortality is likely at the root of this desperation. That and a lingering sense of interpersonal certainty that leads to a lasting uncertainty. I continue to wonder when (at least not if) I get my vision of happiness or at least something something roughly adjacent.
In terms of writing it is more than a cold water metaphor. It is this concern that I continue to make wrong choices in terms of where to spend my writing energy and wind up spending what little energy I have (after wasting most of it through indecision) writing the stuff that doesn’t make me happy.
Time is not exactly on my side here. Maybe I ought to be figuring out a way to get to work and get things right. Well, it isn’t like I’m not already doing that… Maybe I ought to be finding a way to do it right or at least better.