Arguments behind my eyes, so much to do. One voice says "go to the library already damn you, you're just wasting time- you have work to do". Another, "stay and write, it's seeping out of you, this story's been a long time coming; don't lose it!" The last, "Movement is once a year, it's not worth missing, you can make up whatever you miss, except living".

I am wasting time. I do have work to do. I am missing out on life. I am loosing the story.

Crippled by my indecisiveness.