Is someday today? Is it? I always tell myself that whatever big thing I need or want or need to do will get done someday. As the illustration so eloquently illustrates, I never seem to get to that someday. Whenever I get close to someday, it moves, it hides, it makes like a tree and leaves…that’s what somedays do.
Why are we even here if the things we want or need to do are always penciled in for someday? What are we waiting for? Why do we put things off? Out of fear? Fear of not being able to do something? Fear of getting it all wrong? Fear of not getting another chance to make whatever wrong, right? Fear of fear? Complacency? Laziness? What the freaking freak is our problem? Is it because there’s no meaning to anything? That, in the end, or even in the middle, what’s the point of continuing when it’s all going to end up sinking into the earth like thousands of civilizations have before this one?
If you find the point of it all, I suppose you’ll find someday. If you can’t find that point, someday is still going to be out on the loose. It’s as simple as that.
I should write a book.
Maybe I will… someday.
