Monday, Now What?
Its Monday, I don't hate Monday, I actually quite enjoy them. It's another day to live and another day to enjoy the things and people I love, even if it is only for a moment of the day. But this Monday, today, I am stuck. I can't seem to figure out what to write about for today's blog. So here I go, let me fill you with ramblings of a simple writer.
I woke up today to my thoughts being jumbled and my ability to write estranged. This isn't the first time this has happened and neither will it be the last. The fact that it is happening today really kills me. Monday usually sets the precedence for the entire week. How I start off Monday usually shows how the week will go for me. Not to say nothing will get done but rather, things will get done with sluggish intent and with an anxious tongue. Right now, it feels like the gears in my mind are frozen. They are stuck grinding teeth not knowing which way to spin. All my thoughts feel like paper, tossed to the rain of cold empty city streets. And rescuing them from the down pour of negligence, will only rip them apart. Even if you successfully pick one from a puddle and unfold it, the writing is smudged and unreadable. Now, you're left with nothing but meaningless pieces of paper stained with what was once beautiful symphony of word. Which most likely, had the one magical note that could have change everything. Now, you have to wait and hope that it will recycle through the waste of your mind. And the chances of that happening are about as high as you catching rain in a fisherman's net.
Why must Monday be a fickle day? Why must Monday lather it's ugly head with the beauty's of a forgotten weekend? Or, is it not Monday that leads with fickle feet, but I leading with stagnant steps? Truthfully, Monday isn't the cause for the cold fever of my mind. But from the consequences of what I had chosen to do yesterday. I had decided to venture out for the day with friends, be it, it was a great time and I do not regret spending time with them. But, rather I regret moving forward with having a few ales. I know the consequences of what happens when I drink even a small amount. Drinking is rare for me these days, as I know what happens if I let myself ride the false pleasure of an alcohol induced euphoria. And fortunately now, I can induce this euphoria from only a few ales. Leaving me far from the pains of withdrawal. I knew that Monday was coming and I needed to have a sharp mind about me for the morning. But I ignored it, I ignored my own valid judgement of what would happen. I don't have the pleasure of having things planned out for me, I am unemployed and have to do everything I can to maintain financial stability. I am my own boss, co-worker, and mentor. I don't get to wake up come one week or two weeks and see my bank account has been added too. I cannot afford to wake up feeling exhausted from drinks the day before work. I can't show up and discuss my poor choices with my coworkers and have them tell me their poor choices as well and we laugh, validating our choices. As of right now, I am hanging on by a thread for my financial life. Bad choices from the past have put in the situation I am in and I am digging myself out.
Mondays are only Mondays, when I make poor choices, when I decide to go against everything I planned for. When I go against everything I worked so hard for. I have massive creation ahead of me, even the slightest change in my plans from poor decisions can lead me astray. It can crumble my architecture in an instant. Leaving me in a rubble of my own mess. Causing me to rebuild what I have worked my soul into and let fail do to my wants and simple short pleasures. I love my friends and I love spending time with them. But one cannot forget about themselves. One cannot fill others with joy if they are not filled with joy themselves. One can give laughter in an joyless life, but how long till the suffering becomes visible, becomes the daily consumption of self? To the point where smiles become as frequent as a snake speaking truth. One cannot help others if one is continually falling trap to self-sabotage. I am upfront about myself and do my best to maintain a healthy structure. But, sometimes I fail and I become a donkey to the thoughts of others and carry their choices upon my conscience. Rather than carry my own and as one without blame.
I guess what I am getting at is Monday, is only painful when I go against my better judgment, when I let the simple choice of doing what feels good, rather than whats right. It's only painful when I put the flesh before my creations. It's only painful when I put the building of my own thoughts, my own creation, my own passion on ice. Only to be left cold and thickened, waiting to be molded and brought back to life once again. Monday is
only viewed poorly when I find myself running from who I truly am and the responsibilities of that.
I woke up today to my thoughts being jumbled and my ability to write estranged. This isn't the first time this has happened and neither will it be the last. The fact that it is happening today really kills me. Monday usually sets the precedence for the entire week. How I start off Monday usually shows how the week will go for me. Not to say nothing will get done but rather, things will get done with sluggish intent and with an anxious tongue. Right now, it feels like the gears in my mind are frozen. They are stuck grinding teeth not knowing which way to spin. All my thoughts feel like paper, tossed to the rain of cold empty city streets. And rescuing them from the down pour of negligence, will only rip them apart. Even if you successfully pick one from a puddle and unfold it, the writing is smudged and unreadable. Now, you're left with nothing but meaningless pieces of paper stained with what was once beautiful symphony of word. Which most likely, had the one magical note that could have change everything. Now, you have to wait and hope that it will recycle through the waste of your mind. And the chances of that happening are about as high as you catching rain in a fisherman's net. Why must Monday be a fickle day? Why must Monday lather it's ugly head with the beauty's of a forgotten weekend? Or, is it not Monday that leads with fickle feet, but I leading with stagnant steps? Truthfully, Monday isn't the cause for the cold fever of my mind. But from the consequences of what I had chosen to do yesterday. I had decided to venture out for the day with friends, be it, it was a great time and I do not regret spending time with them. But, rather I regret moving forward with having a few ales. I know the consequences of what happens when I drink even a small amount. Drinking is rare for me these days, as I know what happens if I let myself ride the false pleasure of an alcohol induced euphoria. And fortunately now, I can induce this euphoria from only a few ales. Leaving me far from the pains of withdrawal. I knew that Monday was coming and I needed to have a sharp mind about me for the morning. But I ignored it, I ignored my own valid judgement of what would happen. I don't have the pleasure of having things planned out for me, I am unemployed and have to do everything I can to maintain financial stability. I am my own boss, co-worker, and mentor. I don't get to wake up come one week or two weeks and see my bank account has been added too. I cannot afford to wake up feeling exhausted from drinks the day before work. I can't show up and discuss my poor choices with my coworkers and have them tell me their poor choices as well and we laugh, validating our choices. As of right now, I am hanging on by a thread for my financial life. Bad choices from the past have put in the situation I am in and I am digging myself out.
Mondays are only Mondays, when I make poor choices, when I decide to go against everything I planned for. When I go against everything I worked so hard for. I have massive creation ahead of me, even the slightest change in my plans from poor decisions can lead me astray. It can crumble my architecture in an instant. Leaving me in a rubble of my own mess. Causing me to rebuild what I have worked my soul into and let fail do to my wants and simple short pleasures. I love my friends and I love spending time with them. But one cannot forget about themselves. One cannot fill others with joy if they are not filled with joy themselves. One can give laughter in an joyless life, but how long till the suffering becomes visible, becomes the daily consumption of self? To the point where smiles become as frequent as a snake speaking truth. One cannot help others if one is continually falling trap to self-sabotage. I am upfront about myself and do my best to maintain a healthy structure. But, sometimes I fail and I become a donkey to the thoughts of others and carry their choices upon my conscience. Rather than carry my own and as one without blame.
I guess what I am getting at is Monday, is only painful when I go against my better judgment, when I let the simple choice of doing what feels good, rather than whats right. It's only painful when I put the flesh before my creations. It's only painful when I put the building of my own thoughts, my own creation, my own passion on ice. Only to be left cold and thickened, waiting to be molded and brought back to life once again. Monday is
only viewed poorly when I find myself running from who I truly am and the responsibilities of that.
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