Another morning and it’s there again. That Resistance. Those distractions. That hope of an easy way out, that avoidance. That wishful, irrational thought.
Maybe today I won’t have to work for my art.
Maybe I don’t have to seek out the Muse. To make any effort. ”Please, just let the Muse seize me,” we cry internally. Seize me from my bad habits. From my social feed, my Netflix account, my over-scheduled life. Rip me from my self doubt, my procrastination. Kicking and screaming, just save me from my own apathy.
From my own lack of preparation.
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