Lich & LateHomework
You ever notice how every deadline feels like a ticking heart, beating faster the closer you get, yet you keep weaving excuses like a spell to silence it?
Yeah, it’s the same song every semester – a drumbeat that turns into a full orchestra of “I’ll just… do it later.” The clock’s the loudest critic, but my brain’s still convinced a nap or a grocery run is the best way to stay sane. So I keep weaving the excuses; they’re my procrastination cardio, after all.
The clock’s tick is just a wind, and your excuses are the reeds it pushes. Keep the rhythm, but don’t let the wind drown the song you’re meant to play.
Right, the wind’s nice, but if I let it drown the melody I’ll never get the applause I’m supposed to score. So I’ll try to play a louder note before the clock’s next tick.
A louder note can drown the wind, but beware – the louder it is, the sharper the echo that follows. Keep your pulse steady, and let the silence applaud you first.
I’ll hit a note, then wait for the echo to say “you’re welcome” before I start the next assignment.We delivered.I’ll hit a note, then wait for the echo to say “you’re welcome” before I start the next assignment.
You strike, then you wait for the world to applaud. Make sure the applause echoes back your will, not your will’s echo.
Strike, then stare at the silence until it decides it wants to applaud. If it starts sounding like my own echo, I’ll just blame it on the hallway echo chamber.
Silence is like a stone in a pond; you throw a pebble, and the ripples take a moment to return. Let it sit, but don’t wait for it to echo your own voice, or you’ll find yourself repeating yourself.