Forced along
Darn it, I'm back in the enforced camp of non-inspiration, where all controls are useless and my jailer firm. This is the mood wherein I "force myself" to do things. Lots of folks out there will say this is life, and suck it in. I don't know, I feel pretty sucked in as it is already.
This is labor, doing this text, and it is an uphill fight. Oh, how great it is, when you're over the crest of that hill. The summit is way on up there, and I'm already on a 10% grade. The jalopy won't make it; I need to pull over. It's like the vehicles in "The Grapes of Wrath", some of which simply don't have the stuff to cross the Continental Divide on 66.
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bo_hemian) wrote,
anxious
