The problem is not that I’m lazy or uninspired.
The problem doesn’t lie in dispassion or fear.
Hell, I’ve jumped off cliffs, blindly—
I surrendered into this life with no idea where
My stumbling steps would go.
The issue isn’t that I’m broke or a single mother.
(There’s a million things we can cheaply do together).
The only sticking point left is time;
The world so vast and every moment blessed
The joy encompassed in a bite of tender mango
Or a plane flight equally enthralling. A meal cooked—
Liam and I together, a stack of books, a cup of tea
Maps to pour over, ideas to discuss, a lover to hug
Every second a rejoicement. An ecstasy of things to come!
See here: the only problem is time—
And all we can do it fill it with more and more splendid happenings
And catch our sweet breath in the sacred spaces in between.
One thought on “F*uck, I Want To Do It All.”
Love your words. I think there are varieties of depression. Existential angst vs loss of girlfriend, for example. Ego at the center. Loneliness is a shroud that insulates even in crowds of loving admirers. No easy remedies.