Judgment Day

Everyone needs to work. Can there be something romantic, story-worthy, song-worthy, film-worthy, about this day in and day out? Music makes it worth while, poetry makes it worthwhile. Love, makes it worthwhile. The ability to capture time passed poetically - time that is not otherwise necessarily poetic, makes it okay. Makes it not just liveable, but romantic. I come back to this sterile place after a weekend, and when I have thought, lived, created, loved - only then does it all feel worthwhile. So when I wake up on that Monday morning, and my heart, and my mind are either full or empty of the things I have or haven't done, the feelings I have or haven't felt, the lands I have or haven't traversed, the progress of emotional intelligence I have or haven't made, the words or paint strokes I have or haven't created, the beautiful places I have or haven't wandered, the new craft I have or haven't learned, the love I have or haven't nurtured...Monday morning at 6:30 am is my judgment day, over and over again.