5.8

I built one wall of the building I needed to live in. With one wall standing, I walked away. Each time I rounded the corner of the driveway, I saw it haunting me. I dropped my tools and left again. This slip-shod work of half-heart power has stopped me, stopped me, stopped me, halt--and now I realize my fault. I'm going to tear the wall apart, use the bricks for different art.

Don't let the something of the past stand in the way. Destroy, then start.

[I wrote two and a half pages of a play, hated it, and didn't work on it for a week because it was impossible to use and too scary to delete. I couldn't throw it out because I thought I would be wasting my time. Cursed hindsight--I wasted my time regardless.]