Blank

Heavens to inspiration blanks.
I wish I knew how to get back my inspiration in regards to my productions.
What is is about these moments of unwant and inability to move beyond this point, that make me so unbarebly still?
I guess I can only wait, but not too much though.
I have a billion of things left to do, and I cannot wait too long to finish them.

People still come up to me with proposals.
I guess that my policy of behavior to the outside world provides a far better image of myself than the one I hold to myself.
However, which is the right view? Is it mine with the obsessive, melancholic behavior or is it the positive outter view that portraits me in such a fair good lightt?
Perchance it would be a in-between state, which would make me common.
I guess I have been dreading the commons, becuase I so long to be more than common, only to realize that  I am as common as common can be, and by that fact alone, that is already a great thing to be - but still, the blured values fade this view and fill me with a sick perspective of what my life should be all about.

I am tired of complaining.
People hear, but there is so little for them to do.
There is so little for me to do.
This is a quality of being so as soon as I accept that I am as I am, the fast I will be in fulfilling what needs to be done.

And now, I rest.

Leaving all of this behind

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