Procrastination

It started out like a dream. Slowly visualizing step after step after step when suddenly, you're drawn back into the same depressing world you desperately needed to escape.
It always starts out like that. Then you forget about everything you were planning. It all just ends up as what it was; cobwebs in a cupboard along with your past you always wanted to forget and you favorite stuffed bear that's lost all of its sentimental values just because you have a new stuffed toy.

Are all hopes and dreams and carefully laid out plans supposed to end this way? are they meant to? Or is it something so intricate that the universe dares not let it succeed thus sending down angels to interrupt your reveries.
I think it would be more dramatic if that reason was used. Something so brilliant and so thought provoking that it would disrupt the very nature of the life iteself. Well I have to give myself credit for my procrastination sometime.

Is writing a book so dangerous to the universe or would be dangerous to myself?
I doubt it since i've been procrastinating for over 2 years.

So it comes down to the thin red line I have to cross. To write or not to write.

Thus, I have to decided to write. The long awaited (self-proclaimed) "The Last Pear on Earth" is finally being written.

Today's post was brought to you by the number 9, the color red and the word procrastination.
The number 9 for the Spain world cup jersey i'll be purchasing with the number 9 on it and the name Torres splashed across the back. The color red because now everywhere I go all I see is red and the word procrastination because that's what I bloody am.