This is it. This is what I’ve waited for. The day it becomes tough. Most things are easy to start – as long as it doesn’t take too long. And then adrenalin and the excitement of the new kicks in and it seems impossible NOT to do it. But one bad day is all it takes. One day when the mood isn’t there, the inspiration has gone, people irritate you, you irritate you, you’re tired (my eyes burn from fatigue right now and I just want to close them and sleep), then on that day decisions must be made. To be, or not to be. But lemme tell you this; nothing I’ve written is new to anyone reading this right now – I’m not Oprah, Deepak or Phil, so I’m not even going to try and give anyone advice or continue in a bullshit session. All I’m saying is this: I’m tired and irritable and in no mood to do this scribble. Just by writing that down, I’ve progressed toward my goal of finishing this thing. And then Harry met Sally and Petered the Wolf until the end of the world when once were warriors that mad maxed out. Over and out. So the sunshine lit a pool of glass flowing toward the see of sight and in the sky was cast a mirrorball the Village People would have written songs about, but instead the mother’s wailed in fear and lost their grips on the children who fell into the shards and gave us a sunset glow as red as blood and as violent in its beauty as the bond between a mother and her child.

One thought on “Fatigue

  1. heikewrites

    Dear Scribbla. Thank you for your blog and for being out there, writing, matching so many of my thoughts and taking me elsewhere, every entry, somewhere else. You give me back a little bit of the courage and the faith i have lost in my own writing. and it’s always a pleasure to read. a welcome distraction. Merry Christmas/Happy New Year to you and yours. Consider this a card, something with a snowman on it, and children ice-skating.


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