I don’t want to write this.
I suppose it would be more accurate to say, “I don’t feel like writing this,” because sometimes I want things in my life that I don’t feel like doing or achieving. So as I write, I am getting over the lethargy that would have held me paralyzed in the ridiculous limbo of not knowing what I want [to do] in the moment. It’s fairly frustrating to be in that place.
When all I can manage to do is what I feel like doing in the moment, there is a sense of freedom that, when the curtain peels back, is revealed to be a false. Listening to my laziness, irritation, and fear (among other feelings), I realize that these things don’t want what I want. So I’m going to end this post with this…
Laziness, I do not belong to you, and I have things I want to accomplish.
Irritation, I don’t want to hear it, because I have kindness to share.
Fear, you will not choke the life out of me – I will overcome you time and again.