I'm distracted. It's a partly cloudy Saturday afternoon, and there are live bands in the amphitheater, exhausted people doing improv comedy, and a side lawn gathering of artsy folks across the way. And I'm sitting here, bored to tears with my own confused ramblings, but determined to write something of consequence so I don't have to do it all tomorrow. But I desperately don't want to think about that, so I'm running through an irritatingly catchy song in my head over and over and over, finding obscure connections between people I know on Facebook, and thinking about what I wish I could be doing instead of this.
I do so truly wish I could be focusing, but that aside...
I wish that I could sleep and feel rested. I wish I didn't feel like I have to wait for the rest of my life to start. I wish that I could just sit back and relax and enjoy the time as it moves on. I wish I could relax the muscles in my shoulders. I wish that tomorrow, someone would be celebrating me. I wish that I could justify lying in bed and watching this week's episode of Bones. I wish that because I can't justify it, I wouldn't be doing it at some point this evening.
Estoy escribiendo un ensayo sobre una obra dentro de una obra dentro de una obra de teatro, y las complicaciones en mi mente son tan mezclada y blablablá... Gracias a Gabriel García Márquez para la última palabra.
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