365 Attempts (At Life)

You just keep dangling them carrots overhead. And watch me jump.

Being born an artist with a dream is not an easy path. But you choose no other. This is what you want. And you feel it in your bones that it is what you are meant to do. So you work tirelessly at polishing it and pushing it forward. You put yourself out there. To get noticed. To build an audience. But art is subjective. People will like you or they won't. You will get labeled. You will be criticized and judged. Good or bad. And as hard as you work at getting just the right amount of exposure, you'll learn that most success comes from timing and sheer luck. You get so close and then the stars don’t align. That's just how it goes. And while you are still scraping for your third and fourth chance, some of your peers excel and hit the jackpot on the first try. That simultaneously blows your mind and rips you to shreds. Because you look at them with pride, awe and admiration at what they have created, but start to feel that you will never be that good. That

This individual is commonly found in middle management positions. They are also known to volunteer toasts/speeches at company gatherings.  Slow Talker   Profile: Likes to indulgently pause between words Likes to click his/her pen repeatedly while saying, “What was I gonna say? Likes to make bubble popping sounds with their mouth while trying to remember what they were gonna say States commentary S-L-O-W-L-Y in a roundabout manner that is hard to follow Easily loses their train of thought if (heaven forbid) someone interrupts them Dream/Fantasy way to deal with said pet peeve person : Press a red button on your desk as they commence speaking that triggers the projection of a giant, neon timer on your office walls (and that also plays the Jeopardy theme song). After 30 seconds, a loud buzzer rings. If the person is still talking, a secret trap door opens beneath them and they disappear. Semi-Realistic way to deal with said pet peeve person: With your cell phone o

How often in the course of one day do you check to see what time it is? I do it a lot. I am regularly in dispute with the clock. Asking it to go faster because there is something I am impatiently waiting for. Or petitioning it to slow down because the lines on my face are getting deeper. And more often than I’d like to admit, requesting to go back to  a moment that is so far behind me I’m afraid it will be lost forever. But doesn’t all time get lost? When everything that is will soon be what was ? Don’t we barter time with every one of our breaths? Time is not a friend. It is a spirit, a ghost. It dissolves as it happens. It disappears. It passes. Who could hold onto a ghost, really? I think about what the world will look and feel like 500 years from now. When I am not here and you are not here. And ‘our time’ is a thin chapter in a history book some distant relative may be studying. I wonder what they will think of the time we were given. I wonder what we will thin