t-day type #9

I need an assistant.

I need someone

To keep me on

A schedule.

I always follow

My whimsy

A do what ever I want

At any given time

Binge a show,

Spend a day gaming,

Triple feature movies.

Jump from

Thing to thing.

Things get pushed aside

Far too easily.

There are

24 hours in a day.

There is only so much time

To do anything.

Like the economy

Being the distribution of

Scarce resources.

The economy of my time

Gets monopolized

Every other week.

I need to do

What brings joy,

What sparks life

Back into my being.

That has been music

For a long time.

With the dark cloud

Call OMICRON

Dangling above our heads.

That spark becomes

A weak flame

On a candle,

Next to an open window

During a storm.

This thing is just me

Alone in my room,

Surrounded by guitars,

Pedals, and noise makers.

Every morning

I trip over cables

Left strewn about.

A constant reminder,

That I do not do enough.

That I am not enough.

That the things I love

Will always be pushed aside

By the shiny new thing,

Or by the American need

For cash.