MIDWAY : Moving on an impulse
I tend to move on the spur-of-the-moment, that is, I am impulsive by nature. More so when it comes to making half-baked decisions. Truly, this speaks for all cases that are resolved but lies uppermost in my mind. Any action is preceded by thought. This is a universal phenomenon and known to all. But what happens when the thinking is itself stymied for one reason or the other? This is my static condition over which I have no control and one which has stayed with me through thick and thin. It baffles me no end and goes to making my mental make-up. Taking half-measures is my way of doing things and no mincing matters. A sad and deplorable state of affairs. Beyond this lies my personal connection as such it may be. Look at it this way; life is supposed to be a half-full glass of water and so has to be judged, accordingly.
To do justice to myself behoves me to think twice. This means there is no executive style decisions to bail me out of any fix that I get into in the process. Willy-nilly this is due to agonising over details. Rather than taking the bull by the horns I am opt to call it quits even before a case has been initiated. But time seems to be on my side whenever I contemplate doing things. Only if there were short cuts to realising my aims and ambitions though these do not seem to be forthcoming. Given that the occasional bouts of working out a sweat over writing projects makes me heady even though there is no sense of completion. Yet nothing can stop me from coming back to do that bit of work which I have begun. Amidst the flurry of activities there is no one to succour me. That is because I am considered an ignoramus in its literal sense. What holds me up is a dawdling in a frame of time. Because there is simply no getting away from what the morrow will bring — a harbinger of doom or one full of good cheer. Any work that I perform drives me with its urgency but sluggish thinking and a low level of energy have conspired to make things difficult. These do little to ease the situation made manifest. That means there will be no surprises in store for me. Only a dull ache in a void of my own creation.
To date nothing has happened to lift me out of my morass. Even if this were the case I would ignore it in a half-hearted manner and go my way. Such is my forte and the only reason why I am here. One long act of doing as little as possible to get through the day. Not even an iota of achievement; only a succession of half-baked measures that pass muster.