when I wake the mind won’t let my body move. I listen to the keys and tell my phone to let me sleep some more. eight minutes is never enough and I keep asking for quiet though the longer it wards off the day the worse I wind up feeling about myself and where I should be by now. the kettle boils and I wash and dry and tell myself to get more done today. the tasks are as I left them: unfinished and devoid of any shred of something that could mean that they could matter. every day passes knowing things will never be more than how they are. I write plans for meetings to make sense of tasks that wind up more confusing after every conversation. in another tab I watch them blow up buildings by the airport of another city under siege. the spreadsheet expands and feels a lot less important with every cell I fill.
I run from myself through the rain to the shops. the basket is light but I still need a bag to bring my winnings home.
No comments:
Post a Comment