I've been sprinting down the long corridors of this year, rocketing from crumbling paycheck to crumbling paycheck, corroded bandaid to corroded bandaid. Living the dream? Living on a dream. And my parents' paychecks.

I need to Stop, Collaborate, and Listen. Slow down, take stock. Decide, point, and go.

I don't want to be another failed artist; another messy architect with no drawings, no structures. A spoiled, brooding poet with no rhyme, no prose.

If there is one thing I have learned it's that I am worth more than that. I've been given the gift of a steady job in an economic crisis; I owe it to myself to let it help me.

So get ready for the hiatus. Fifteen hour days, seven day weeks be damned. Take some time off and trust I'll find solace, direction, not just ennui in the stillness.

ink :: graphite