It is possible to pause & think too much [that much I know - having considered it too many times] / My craft is assembling piles of undertakings & to inspect them .../
Night is when my best is said - quietly - to no one My orgy of clients has rolled from my hands There were too many to love .../
All simple pleasures of sleep have now been reduced over these past three days by work and their changes to that work as all my efforts are then undone to be redone before their deadline is met in that dirt of freelancing No paid sick leave for us workers of late hours and others' foibles
Our slack dog sleeps - again - under backlit performing particles - those flecks - peeled and rubbed - bare floating remnants of us in ramped tilts of warming beams - up there - fine speckles cavort against our sureness of earth’s old ways - under ageing theories of gravity - That free carnival of … Continue reading Our Slack Dog Sleeps
I am abraded by a faux light for my immediate set of tasks - I sit at my cluttered desk .../
You are a part of hustle porn having once taken the dark oath in a silent swearing-in .../
This quiescent night is my daytime of no fools, no calls, no unread emails, no uploaded updates..
No, I do not regularly commute away to work, or to pushy schools, or sumptuous trips alone..