The couch looks inviting the bed feels warm but you must not squander the promise of the day because your dead grandmothers would have used the day to
tend to the plants read a book write a letter make a kueh feed a stray sew a blouse cook up a storm so
do not just think tomorrow you will do better as yesterday’s tomorrow is already here so don’t slot time into 24-hour buckets blindly following the sun like sheeple not every tomorrow holds great promise yours might decide to not show up
Go boldly unroot yourself from the mishmash of half-baked ideas and self-proclaimed profound notions just kill them all. you will leave behind nothing but ash anyway so go
make something stupid something insane something ugly enough to survive something that will become a cautionary tale
something that will stir your grandmas in their graves