Today I just don’t feel up to it.
I don’t want to work out. I don’t want to engage.
I just don’t.
I miss my little Prissy. I feel my heart heave and tears form whenever I think of her. I miss her eyes looking into mine.
I also miss myself. I want to explore life. I want to explore the jungle. I want, I want, I want.
And yet. I find myself in a bathtub. Safe, cozy. Not stretching myself. Just sitting.
I hate that. I hate myself for not stretching. I have so much I want to do, so why am I not doing it?
Intention. My intent is not yet pure. I have not committed enough. Everything is still ephemeral, waiting.
Waiting. For what? A sign? Someone to push me?
No, I need to push myself. Push myself off the cliff, and hopefully grow wings on the way down.
Or don’t. Perhaps I’ll jump off the cliff and nothing will save me. I’ll just fall.
At least it will be better than safe, cozy.
