Doing is being. I reprise.

You should write. I say to me. Every day. I sit, I stare, I think. Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not. Mostly not. I am blocked.

I am taking things for granted. I believe I deserve it. When I am not.
I have a table. It came with the room.
I have a chair. I took it from an old ladies’ house.

I have time. Hours. Yet I spend it on Facebook and wonder;
Where does the time gone? What have I done?
I lay my head down at the end of the day, knowing nothing has been done and the day is gone.

I wake up in the morning, hoping I will find the Inspiration. The Muse sitting at the end of the bed, breakfast steady and ready for another day of victory.
And suddenly, it’s 9 pm and the time is gone. We have none. I feel guilty.
I had a chance, I had the time. I had the same time as every other human being.

Yet, I failed, gracefully. I betrayed myself and my story.
I lied and I cheated my way through, ending the day with not a page, but nothing to show.
I will write tomorrow, I will write another day.
It’s easy to say.

There is no pressure. There is no urge.
What a foolish thing to say.
When one could step in front a bus any day.
Being hit by a car by accident. Being an arm-length from an exploding bomb. Mad days are coming, anything is possible.

Doing is Being, as my mentor, Ray Bradbury Said. So I must Do.

„…To not to do is to die,
Or lie about and lie about the things
You just might do some day.
Away with that!
…Let your body lead your mind –
Blood the guide dog to the blind;
So then practice and rehearse
To find heart-soul’s Universe,
Knowing that by moving/seeing
Proves for all time: Doing’s being!”

Fixed Brad

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