Do it.
( Nah, just lie on the bed. )

Do it.
( Isn't it comfy here? )

You have no time.
( I have some reels to share. )

Five seconds to decide.
( "No", that's what I say. )

Do it.
( Five seconds over.)

I think I should leave it.

I woke up before the noise,
breathed with the trees,
walked with the sky.
The sun hadn't yawned yet,
but I had — twice.

Back home, I made coffee
strong enough to slap me awake.
I whispered to my cup,
"Let's be productive today."
It didn’t answer —
but I believed in us.

I sat down with math—
chapter four, page full of promises.
I underlined the heading,
adjusted my pen cap five times,
then sharpened a pencil
I didn’t even need.
Pro-level procrastination unlocked.

Midway through one sad-looking equation,
my phone lit up—
first a comment,
then a reel,
then a cat dancing to lo-fi beats.
Fifteen minutes later,
I knew three dessert recipes
and forgot the formula
I never really knew.

Suddenly, a line hit me—
not from the textbook,
but from somewhere softer.
A poem idea.
Just a line, I thought.
A quick jot.
A harmless verse.

But the line grew limbs,
called in stanzas,
and started demanding metaphors.
So I gave in.
I gave it my quiet,
my hours,
my last sip of cold coffee.

A crow watched me
from the window grill
like it knew
I was failing both maths and time.

And now—
the sun is long gone,
the sky has tucked itself in.
The poem is finished,
polished and breathing.
But that chapter?
Still untouched.
Still waiting.

When my co-author is far away,
I don't know why,
I fall astray.
You should decry
Procrastination's deceit,
Which I try
But cannot defeat!

there's probably something
far deeper at work here
something quite important
and worth delving into
to be explored more
thoroughly
consequentially
consciously

instead i'll probably
just end up thinking about
that shoelace in my boot
the one that still
needs to be replaced
ragged and frayed as it is
and i'll wonder how long
i can ignore it before
it finally snaps
and i'm left with
no choice anymore

There’s an old joke, “Procrastinate NOW, because
the sooner you fall behind, the longer you’ll have to catch up.”
Ha ha.

While a lot of students around here, even the good ones,  
are procrastinators, I’m a diagnosed pre-crastinator.
I obsess over syllabuses and start things immediately.
I've got rough drafts of things due three months from now.
I’m a planner. Leisure time makes me itch.

I say that to say this, I’m reaping my rewards.
There’s a palpable layer of fret in the air.
Everyone's (the seniors) talking about their theses,
and how they need to start it—first thing yesterday.
I just listen, playing Flappy Bird on my phone, because I’m done.

When my professor handed my thesis paper back the other day,
he said, “This is good.” At first, I was delighted, quietly rocking it inside.
Then I floundered, becoming somewhat indignant. Why’d he sound surprised? Because I handed it in a little (80 days) early?
But soon enough, I was back to happiness.
I’ll have to defend it one day, but I’ll go first, wait and see.

Shall we wax poetic?

I’m like the sea, always restless
and I enjoy the flavor of honest effort.
I dub snark, and the little, jealous glances,
I blunt them with chey smiles, while thinking,
‘I’ll row my boat, and you row yours—just a little slower.’

Let them whisper me freakish
though I win a thousand crowns,
the real pleasure lies in my gun slinger’s sang-froid,
to finish the commission first and be the best.
.
.
Songs for this:
Let Me Down Easy by Gang of Youths
Let Me Go by CAKE

There is dust on
the wall.
I watch it hang in
little wisps.
I’m distracted by  
everything.
All of it.
The small and large
items of life have me
chasing my tail, and avoiding  
the pen.

I postpone writing, like I’m
ending a bad relationship.
I avoid the tough
conversation.
I dance with impotence and
procrastination, like they are
lovely women.

I need to write.
I must create.
But there is an  
antagonist at work in the
trivial details of my
existence.
It smells like copper.
It hides the ink from  
my mind.

It would rather I do
anything else:
promote
market
*******
dream
sleep
eat
watch TV
or sometimes,
just stare at the
dust on the wall.