You know, excuses are so easy to make. I would’ve done this, but I had to get this done first. I would’ve but… Meanwhile, the excuse tree is steady growing and I show no signs of slowing down. Well, that’s why I write. Writing is an outlet. I write to use self-expression. I write for therapy and help. It’s so easy for me to say I would’ve done something if I wasn’t so tired. I would’ve made this move to get hired. I would’ve finished in time if I didn’t have so much to do. I had the time, but I lollygagged behind. Now I wish I could rewind. Sometimes I take a minute or more to self-evaluate and ask myself a few questions that are similar to this:

Why don’t I get the job done; especially when I have the opportunity?
Why do I procrastinate?
Why do I wait until the last minute?
Why do my invalid reasons for not getting jobs done outweigh my valid reasons?
What’s wrong with me?
Will I ever be an early bird?

Ooops. Just realized I said too much. Well, I guess that’s what happens when you’re a writer. I need a lighter to set fire to this wood doused with gasoline. I’m trying to burn. To do better is what I yearn. As a young kid, I’ve got so much to learn. I’ve got so much to learn about life. I’m determined, because determination is my middle name. I envision a certificate to my name surrounded by a frame. It could be a certificate from a professional setting or something else. And I heard that I can dream on, because the sky’s the limit. I imagine my future to be bright and I hope what I envision comes to light.