What
if I were a goddess? The Patron Saint of something or other. I see
all this beauty in innocent neglect; I could be the Goddess of
Faults. It would explain why I forget to pay the proper amount of
attention to detail in the tasks I set out to fulfill. It could be my
destiny to share with the world that our little failures, they are
what helps us learn.
This is what I think
as I tape post-it notes with the logo of an indie lit press onto the
side of my desk. The logo is of a spring gun drawn in what may have
been either charcoal or water color. The cellophane keeps bunching,
leaving several air bubbles in the wake of my fingers. As hard as I
try to be careful, I just can’t seem to stop myself from zoning
out.
I realize that my
supercilious thoughts are the reason why I keep fucking up this
simple task. But I reason that perhaps the messy job I’ve done
gives a more natural prettiness to the decoration. Ever since, I’ve
been trying to decide whether my supercilious thoughts are just
excuses for my lack in diligence.
If
I could simply put in the effort I could be great at something, just
one thing. I am merely good at many things refusing to dedicate
myself to one practice. But what if I focused all of my energy into
one art? I could be amazing, a prodigy. I know this. I think about it
almost every day. But I don’t have time for that. I am far too
tired to focus, thus I will always lack dedication. Instead I will
continue to strive on knowing the basics of everything.
It’s
not that I don’t want to be great or that I don’t try. It’s
just hard. I cannot focus because I have these thoughts. Such
wondrous thoughts that never become more than ideas yet there are so
many of them that sometimes they do become words spoken aloud, with
no one to listen but myself. Sometimes I consider writing these
thoughts down, but I am not always the glorified world wind writer
that I claim to be. Often I do not have a pen or paper, or I just
don’t want to plug in my laptop. If I do, I only seem to remember
half of what I meant to put down and my words contain merely a sliver
of the grandiosity I had originally thought up. And so I am
constantly wrapped up inside my head, burrowing myself as deep as
possible. Until I forget.
But
I can be a faulty Goddess if a goddess they'd allow me to be. I'll
always allow myself to keep aloft.
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