I’m questioning the exact moment that later becomes never. I’m wondering if there is even a “becomes”, or is later always some form of never. I’m struggling a balancing act between a line I feel should be thicker of determination and procrastination. “Why is it so thin in my life these days?” I tend to ask God in some form most 2014 nights. I’m able to fall asleep at night on the pure fact pillow that my self-admitted, miniscule, productivity is still the most productivity that I see from those who surround me. The question “Who am I really surrounding myself with?” wakes me up midway through said sleep, and I continue my journey on a road that leads only to success, but I’m driving below the speed limit. I sometimes get out, and walk, do drugs, have meaningless pop culture talk, and watch movies with the hitchhikers and bystanders. I sometimes let the wrong people in the car with me. I never run out of gas, but I sometimes run out of energy to push down on the pedal. I’m scared that the promising fact that I’m on a road that only leads to bliss, has falsely comforted me into constantly saying “I’ll get there later.” I don’t want that later to become never. Behind all the metaphors what I am saying is that, I want to birth words that grow up to be sentences that the world needs, and I must fuck my word documents now, or never.