Procrastionation

He doesn’t understand my procrastination. He just doesn’t get my need to put off and put off…the waiting to shut the TV off, to sit down and do what makes me happy. Not that he doesn’t engage in all amounts of frivolity. It’s just never at the expense of anything else. He will stare into the void all day, all time, but only because he wants to. Hours will be spent in the goofing off of it all, but there is no other objective. Single focus. And when it switches, he switches. My personal torture, he doesn’t get.

“You all are so deadly and serious in your pursuit of nothingness. You do and do and no fun is had because you are so busy worrying about all the other crap. Now I get you have the dreaded “R” word. Responsibilities and bills to pay. I, in my measly little head, get that. But you fucking fools have no fun in the mean time. I mean bills takes seconds with your clicking around on your computers. You, girl, love to write. That is why you can do this so easily…you have been listening to the muses for years and channeling them with divine loopty loops. But you wait…you act like it is too hard to carve out the time. You watch the stupid box with stupid people mixing and mingling inside. You search antiquities on the internet hoping for something. Or not. What a waste to want so much and get so little…you want nothing because you focus on scattered bullshit. You want nothing because you get nothing from boring little dalliances. Now waste your time, please. All time is meant for is to be wasted in the pursuit of ecstatic ramblings of egos and gods. But for fuck’s sake, enjoy it. Moments you waste with trying to move away from yourself is sad. You, and you, and you are all mysteries…like eternal kinder eggs popping out wacky prized with each crack. Yet you sit and do shit you don’t even like, you don’t even “have” to do and don’t do anything. No sparkly treasure for you.
When I watch you, I become you. I become the earth bound deity. I become the pleasure and senses of the human species. I become your sloth. And oh how you judge that sloth. Nothing is judged. Lazy and I are friends. I do that without exclusion…sunning on the warm ground, napping in the highlands. Yet you do that and worry about the other crap you want to do, you have to do. You sit thinking about the book you are going to write, struggling to find time for the words to spill out. For you who need it more plainly said, If you are thinking about something else, do that something else. Until you no longer have that desire.

Silly human…silly person indeed. You need to forget all else and do what you can that pleases you. Savoring up your naps and e-mails does not allow you to cash them in at some heavenly bank for returns and dividends. Express yourself when you can and scream out your name in rage or joy or passion. But fucking scream it. Do it. Do what you love without rules. Without pity. And without any other nonsense. You will ponder greatness and wonder how it will take away from your rest. Conquer that bullshit. Model yourself in my image. Shake off the crap of other’s views. My naps are legendary. My lays magnificent. And oh, the art of my outlaw blood is shimmering in the lands. All what I love. All of who I am. Be you…splendidly. Every minute. Every cell. God is with you…use it.”