Bad movies are not to be wasted while productive dreams dance through finger tips.
Find time in another day to waste today's minutes while work should be done.
Already thoughts of lazy minutes lost on a clock that has not yet begun to be struck.
Everyday falling further behind with taunts of others egging on the mischief of fiddling appendages.
The beginnings of lost trains of consciousness slip through the clinched teeth of determination.
Maybe that's the sound that wakes my dreamless sleep with twists and turns of breathless sweat.
At some point in sometime, something will give way to the expression that correctly suit my creative thoughts.
Until that moment every one that precedes that moment I await.
Until that moment there is no clarity, but the clear fog of indecisive decisions that linger on dangerous ravines and on cliffs that sweet little lemmings edge ever closer to.
On that edge my ambition stands statuesque tilting towards greatness, but reluctant to pursue that one giant leap that is as much faith as it is righteous ego.
So I stand... Struck still with the sight of success bubbling my fears and honesty...
What is an artist to do once one realizes that there is a path to the road of acknowledgement, recognition, and success... All they have to do is what is naturally they have been doing.
This is the time when some fold and go home. Quit and face a life of regret... Or, others seize the moment, double down, throw caution to the wind, and create their own destiny.
These are the thoughts of an artist before bedtime...
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