My words scream my concerns, my schedule echoes them, all while my voice expresses the betrayal. Still you respond with “cool,” “nice,” and “just do it.” As if any of this is that simple to me.

Advice to stay, advice to go, advice to wait, advice to show. Too many options, all of them conflicting. As if any of this is that simple to me.

Go to bed on time, I stay up too late; get up early, I seem to keep sleeping in; make the best of the day you’ve been given. As if any of this is that simple to me.

At least I know what I should be doing – writing for a contest, writing for my blog, writing for my health, not just watching TV. Doing the dishes, doing the laundry, finally putting the damn clothes away. As if any of this is that simple to me.

Instead I’ll stay just as I am. Listening to the winds that sway, seeming and waiting for something to change. If only any of this is that simple to me.

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