BIG PICTURE

The night is dark outside and the lamps that light the house are dim in its smothering. My clothes are thin. The cold penetrates. Skin wrapped in wool or cotton cries for a blanket regardless. Eyes are bleary, head drooping. Chairs prod and chill no matter which way I sit, how much I twist. Restless I walk around, standing transfixed before a screen, else collapsing prone on a bed, eyes wide. The aim is to forget, to freeze, for fear a whirring brain will increase the discomfort, intensify the chill, drag down the eyelids.
Restless, yet crying for rest, I distract myself from the fact that there is work to do, thus becoming counter-productive in the aim of resting. There has only ever been one answer: work. But excuses pile up and restless I'm already on the move, instead of countering each and every one of them. They're easy enough to counter; I've done it before. Simply write my cry and comfort it in tones of power and strength where what I spell is a potent potion to dispel my doubts. But as with new plans, this has not been easy to implement, and time is ticking on this fateful year...
So here's the new model. The BIG PICTURE in which my assignments are smaller than my strength and my RESOLVE should fit the DESIRED OUTCOME.
In this NEW LIGHT, night is trifle, POTENTIAL IS GREAT, and CHANGE IS IMMINENT.

Won't Work

It's not something I would have decided officially. It's something I would have come to regardless. This tacit tradition of turning off-track has long lingered here. It's a matter of seeking something to sadden over. It's a matter of finding focus in forgetting others. No matter how important. No matter is this day's matter once the word 'work' wills 'won't' as its counterpart. Else 'will'. Else 'would'.