I depend heavily on my planner. Given my poor memory and the many things I hope to accomplish in a given day, I write it all down and assign symbols to my different levels of accomplishment or the lack thereof . I'm a prisoner of my diary. Even if I don't complete something on my to do list I insist on recognizing it with some kind of x mark or frowning face, depending on my mood and the importance of the task. Sometimes I wish I could just be free from deadlines...
Freedom
She lingers between the lines of my to do list
And plays hide and seek amongst my pen strokes
Dodging my efficiency in hopes of blending into the ink of my scribbles
Freedom forms an entity with the various checkmarks and symbols
Watching as they bring me closer to feelings of accomplishment,
Freedom follows their rhythm
She simulates abolishment by lingering in the smudges left behind by my left hand
Freedom’s timing
It’s perfect
Finding my psychological clock, she works it back to a time collapsed in my memories and confined in compartments of incompletes
Freedom defeats the pillar of due dates and flirts with those who have escaped the reach of tomorrow
She follows them back to yesterday and treats them to a cocktail of justifications
Falling asleep between hope and determination
Freedom wakes to the stark realization that actually,
She had fucked failure
She had tasted the flavors of laziness and licked the spine of procrastination
Feeling braver, her tongue explored the depths of inability and tickled the contours of defeat
Her feet began to tingle
Signaling the anticipation of her climax and the instability of her senses,
She grips false intentions in search of balance and challenges her very nature, begging for a final throttle that will release her
Feasting his eyes on freedom he cannot resist testing his limits, he expands her legs, contracts his thighs,
And decides
She lingers between the lines of my to do list
And plays hide and seek amongst my pen strokes
Dodging my efficiency in hopes of blending into the ink of my scribbles
Freedom forms an entity with the various checkmarks and symbols
Watching as they bring me closer to feelings of accomplishment,
Freedom follows their rhythm
She simulates abolishment by lingering in the smudges left behind by my left hand
Freedom’s timing
It’s perfect
Finding my psychological clock, she works it back to a time collapsed in my memories and confined in compartments of incompletes
Freedom defeats the pillar of due dates and flirts with those who have escaped the reach of tomorrow
She follows them back to yesterday and treats them to a cocktail of justifications
Falling asleep between hope and determination
Freedom wakes to the stark realization that actually,
She had fucked failure
She had tasted the flavors of laziness and licked the spine of procrastination
Feeling braver, her tongue explored the depths of inability and tickled the contours of defeat
Her feet began to tingle
Signaling the anticipation of her climax and the instability of her senses,
She grips false intentions in search of balance and challenges her very nature, begging for a final throttle that will release her
Feasting his eyes on freedom he cannot resist testing his limits, he expands her legs, contracts his thighs,
And decides
Fuck it, I don’t feel like doing it
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