Procrastination feels like this

Musings on writing and on craving a rich creative life

It’s ten o’clock in the morning.

I left my schedule open for this. I sit down at my desk to write. Clever things. Big things. Topics on my mind longing to be cracked open and bled out on the page. Musings on gender and an ancient battle for power among the sexes. Evolving opinions on identity politics and changing faiths. Moving targets, massive ones. I think I have so much to say. So I sit down to write, to feel ideas move through me and beyond me. I want to be great like those journalists I read all day. I want to say smart things that shift paradigms and make worlds. It’s a feeling I’m after, you see.