Journal 537

Knowing I need to look inward each day is scary. I sometimes ignore doing so, and I procrastinate on most things like that out of fear. Never staying on a path. Just being there and not. Being present and sometimes folding into staring at my phone.

It is tiring because my fear makes me not face the path. I hesitate to pick my pen up from that glass table because the blank pages terrify me. So I resign to passing the time, scrolling through Snapchat, or Twitter, choosing not to face my fears.

In a way, that is everybody.

We are like that.

It is the strong ones that we envy. Then why not become the strong ones?

Why sit day after day, and day, passing time without being the strong ones?

I know it is a damning task because there is fun in life. When everything seems so peaceful, we relax on a couch and watch the sky change from red to blue, to night, another sun, and then we forget our need to survive, and surviving is not the kind of peace we imagine, but the necessary one.

Time though, remains constant. Time is that lousy neighbor — and I laugh when I say this — that always plays loud music, not enough to disturb you, but enough to know that he is there. Just there, but never saying too much, just waiting for you to notice and send him a smiling face, a waving hand down the hall, before long nights together, raising glasses in the dimly lit room of your life.

Yes, we and time can become friends, but it comes down to remembering he is behind the wall, playing that music that we are not sure we like, whispering that he is there, that we need to know him better.

When we face our fear of time, we may become conscious. We may know that procrastination is a parasite eating away at our lives.

October 29, 2022