Guilt and breath and dreams

Guilt and breath and dreams

 

photo by Tim Brown

photo by Tim Brown

Heading from one long week into another, and somehow hoping that I’ll get the chance to write more than I did last week.  I have been in this deep period of reading–new poetry that I’ve come across by accident, non-fiction, novels (I feel like it’s been years since I read this many novels), but it’s time to put some words on the page.  Every time I start to write one thing, I feel like I ought to be writing another and then I get all frozen up and go back to looking at Jezebel.

It’s absolute bullshit, and it’s a microcosm of how the rest of my life feels.  I don’t know whether it’s my personality or human nature, or something feminine and maternal, but guilt is as much a part of my life as breath and dreams.  I always feel like I should be doing something else somewhere else for someone else.  That time’s a-wasting, that I am not fulfilling some potential I should be.  And as a result I probably do half of what I could be doing.

But you know what?  I’m putting it out on the Internets so that hopefully beat myself up Seema comes back and reads it: I do a whole hell of a lot, and I don’t do a bullshit job of any of it.

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