Breaks

What happens when the breaks are on? When you want to start but have no voice? When all your creative juices cease to flow or drip defused out of various pores and not in one single focused thrust? I feel I must, I have to, but can’t, or won’t. I must be too lazy or depressed or too happy or all the above. Maybe the world around me isn’t right or maybe I’m no good. Maybe I have naught to say or maybe there’s too much, all clogged beneath my Adam’s apple chocking me to a smile. And sometimes it starts and it’s ok for a while, but soon it won’t be right again and I’ll lose interest and forget, I’ll turn on the TV.

Fires burning, erasing the memory of a breath of fresh air, corny love and hardcore porn, wars thought by them that dare think the unthinkable, fought by morons, watched by you and me in apathy, as we dream about buying (the newest car), buying (the lovely house), buying (the clothes and accessories the actor/model/singer whore wore), buying…

“Switch it off!” I hear me say “do something! And while you’re at it, lose some weight!”
“Ok I will, the new me arrives tomorrow” I promise myself and smile, appeased. Now that’s settled I can order a pizza, drink another beer, maybe rent a movie (something funny) and lose myself in ease, knowing that tomorrow is another day.

I’m fooling myself that this is a time of rest, a time of preparation for something big.

I’m fooling myself.