Move aside dorothy, this rabbit-hole is mine

Every day I get more and more excited about the Word, yet I seem to step further and further away from being able to actually write anything. I have deadlines for all the things I seek to do, but these seem to pass without much fanfare.

I started the year off with a plan. A plan that was about evolving as a writer and performer. A plan that involved the exploration of all possible avenues available to ensure the growth of Word, in particular, my Word. This plan has been implemented purely in my head and now I seek the inspiration to somehow manifest it in the physical world. I am tired of living in my head but struggle to find the way out of the cranial rabbit-hole.

I see the path to the light, but constantly close the curtains to avoid being reminded of how much I have thought and how little I have done. I seek the spark, epiphany, the proverbial moment of clarity. I feel like a weed head, forever stuck in theory. If only I could clone myself and assign implementation to my twin, thereby allowing myself to comfortably wallow in ideas. It's all very absurd, this I know, but we are allowed dreams. These are our sole possessions in life. Our bodies can be bought and sold, our minds can molded and directed, but our dreams are rivers of smoke that continue to exist even when the naked eye cannot see them.

There's the answer. I shall continue to dream. I shall continue to dream of climbing poetry's everest and I shall continue to dream of fulfilling dreams. That way I succeed, regardless of the outcome :-)