Time, the never-ending cycle that continues at various rates and intervals.

How is it that so much time escapes me between my writings. What evil word is ‘tomorrow’.

I can make excuses, claim life, living, work, family, circumstances… pick one for yourself, I can claim it… as the reason for my non-compliance to my own wishful diligence; but it all boils down to the indiscretion of time – or my indiscriminate use of it.

I sit here thinking, this time – I will do it this time! But deeper down, the voices that rule my very existence laugh and mock me.

All I can really do is recommit, and keep re-committing every time I seem to fail, for failure isn’t in the stopping, or the falling, but in the refusal to get back up and try again.

Again, again, again, I will work at committing to my desire to write full-time. After all, it is, at this moment, my deepest desire.

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