Webbready

As I look through my archives, I notice that one year ago, I acknowledged that I could not continue in the pattern of laziness that I had allowed myself to sink into. I thought I could work toward the change, but despite my efforts, I feel as unproductive as ever. Despite the occasional burst of desire, I no longer have the drive or the hope to commit words to paper or to digital format. While I have thoughts which I find priceless, I find the expression of those thoughts of little value, and even this entry seems to be sentences and words written for the sake of it rather than a means to communicate.

Every year, I envision myself in a better place than the last, and every year is full of disappointment. At times like this, I feel as though I should eliminated the vision, the imagination, and the optimism. It will not make me feel better, but it do believe it will prevent me from feeling worse.