the stubborn inclination toward what’s easy instead of what is good. the several small paralyses that pile up into a monument begging to be worshipped, casting shadows over little things that might actually bring you joy.
countless hours doom-scrolling instead of picking up a pen.
hitting snooze five times in the morning – 5 minutes stretching into 45 – instead of splashing cold water on your sleepy face and getting on with your day.
subconsciously absorbing yourself in other people’s lives instead of living out your own. forgetting about the quick lock of your own presence in a slowly darkening room.
intrusive thoughts that things might never change while every key to every door is five feet from your hands. they look so heavy that you pass them by, but the great trick is the doors were never locked at all.
Choice is a wily fickle friend, ducking behind a million corners every single day, and yet, when you think about it, you are the master of your own fate. grab Choice at his next turn and look him dead in the eye.
life is as bound or as boundless as you make it, but it takes a strange amount of courage to turn away from all the little deaths laid out before us, and choose, always, to live.