Why We Live Anyway/We Have Some Art

It's killing me.

I am totally consumed by wanting to make something right now. Itchy like having bedbugs with scabies. But I don't have the time or space to start a big thing. Not right now. Not today. Maybe I can start something interesting next week. But I still need to make something today. Unfortunately all the creative thoughts are colliding around in my skull like something Brownian. I've surrounded myself with myself. But I haven't surrendered myself to myself.

I have some ideas but nothing to hang a hat on or make a buck with as one-hour project. And, at the very same time ("simultaneously" as the smart kids say), the proverbial bar has risen and high inspirational sources have all but plateaued.

In the end and with time run dry, I have made nothing. The only person with a right to have any sort of disappointment is me.

Wouldn't it be rad to be invisible, but with a spotlight focused upon you at all times, casting a shadow? You'd basically be all shadow all the time.