Some days become too practical.
You sink into the quicksand of old quarries.
Tasks that you just have to do.
You can’t argue with them any more, they have no ears to hear your reasoning.
They aren’t too heavy for you, just extremely awkwardly shaped.
Take a flat breath and blink for several seconds longer than usual.
Move your muscles before you open your eyes.
Some things aren’t really worth looking at.
Questions For The Wall
What will others think? How is their thing so good? How can my things compare? Are my things as good as I need them to be? How can I compete? Why do I want to make things a competition? Why do I need approval? Why do I want to be recognised? Why is that a dream even though a lot of what it entails is off-putting? When will I be satisfied? Will I ever be satisfied? Why do I want attention when I find the deeper happiness when no one is watching? Is it only a short overwhelming rush? Who do I really want to impress? Whose opinions truly matter to me? How can I overcome the context? Why do I want to play for people? What’s changed since the days I was happy playing just for myself? How far away is the place where I just simply enjoy playing with the other musicians? Why do I let the world make me feel so small? Why can’t I be happy being simple and small? Why can’t I enjoy the fact that no one cares? Why is that not so sweet in itself? Is the only version of this life that can matter to me mine? Can I only ever live through my own eyes? Is my small patch of people and places big enough for me to be content? Could I expand it for myself without worrying about who else will see? Why do I want to be seen through eyes I can’t see through myself? How can I let go of wanting to do things for the attention of others? How can I be content doing my things for my own enjoyment? Running my own agenda and doing things for the people I know, not the faceless mass that I don’t? Why do I compare myself to people I don’t know? Why do I let comparisons strangle? Why can’t I take joy and not intimidation from the things that move me? How can I fuel myself on the things I love and not be held back by them? How can I forget the things that I don’t love and not feel that I have spent my time cursing? Why do I feel that I don’t shape up? Why do I feel it’s unfair when I don’t feel that others shape up to me? Why do I want the things other people have and feel slighted that I don’t have them? Isn’t the entire reason I love this that it isn’t any kind of competition?
Quit Vision 