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Is it okay to take a break for one day, or one week, from this need to produce?

Consistency pulls.

It tells me that if I don’t do this thing which I have arbitrarily told myself for so long makes me:

1. productive,

2. on the path to success,


3. me,

that I am a failure, a loser, and less-than.

It’s a dilemma.


I cannot dilute or downplay all my past work and all those days of fire,

but sometimes a vacation from being me is all I think I need.

There have been other days, and weeks, that I said I won’t and I can’t, but I still get it done.

I force inspiration into uncertain and compromising positions.

I have my way with the muse.


Creativity isn’t always there.

My brain still vomits.

My pen gets sick as well.

I grab that brain and pen excrement and squeeze it, mush it, mash it. I pound it, polish it, and finally stare at it for a long while longer.

Oftentimes I wonder, Is this a diamond or just some hard, pounded poop?

And it is.

outside cabinets

I persevere those days and weeks.

I push through the laziness, the tiredness, the busyness, and come out the other end.

Even though some of it kinda sucks,

and some of it really sucks,

I show up to the game, game.

Even when unready and unwilling, I still play.

I submit my heart and my soul.

I transfer my chaos into something of beauty,

and if it is not that,

still it is something.

planet grid

Edited by Kodid Laraque-Two Elk.

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