Better a plan failed than a plan never attempted. But nothing's worse than wasted effort. I acted all of last year. I excelled in the roll of the hopeless pioneer. I lacked motion. I lacked energy. My mind was betrayed by a hopeless memory.
My old friend, wasted time. The most pressing pen in my paper side.
The day job saps all the energy out of me. Its unsustainable, the tapping of saplings all week. In the habit of believing that success must be measured you don't trouble yourself with creative endeavours.
My old friend, wasted time. The most pressing fear in my adult mind.
Brawn will come before brains this year. Muscle and effort over stupid ideas. I'm in favour of quiet labour. So oil will stain the cracks in my hands and I'll be damned if this grease doesn't set into action some plan.
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