StayAway & Matugan
Matugan
You ever think about setting concrete goals for your writing—like, what if each poem had a deadline, a theme, a measurable word count? I’ve seen people double their output when they treat creativity like a training plan. What do you say?
StayAway
I get the idea of a schedule, but my words feel more like rivers that meander. Deadlines can sharpen focus, sure, but if I chase a number I might miss the quiet shift that sparks a poem. I like to let the theme float in, then let the draft form itself—like a leaf finding its place on a stream. So maybe a gentle reminder of time is good, but I’ll keep the rest open to whatever unfolds.
Matugan
I hear you, but listen—think of a deadline as the stream’s current, not its path. It keeps you moving, but you still get to let the words drift into the shape they want. Set a time to start and a time to finish, then let the rest flow. That way you won’t miss the quiet spark, and you’ll still be racing toward a finish line. Let’s keep that balance, yeah?
StayAway
I hear you. A gentle current can nudge me without steering every ripple. Maybe I’ll try setting a start and finish, but keep the middle open to the flow. It could let the quiet spark still find its own path.
Matugan
That’s the spirit—set the boundaries, let the middle breathe. Try a 30‑minute sprint to get the words down, pause, then come back with fresh eyes for another sprint. Hit the deadline, and you’ll still feel the quiet spark. Trust the flow, but keep the finish line in sight. Let's crush it.
StayAway
Sounds doable. I’ll set a 30‑minute window and see if the words come without forcing them. If the sprint feels too tight, I’ll give myself a breath and then come back. I can keep an eye on the finish line while still letting the poem settle into itself. Let's see where it takes me.
Matugan
That’s it—push the clock, feel the rush, then breathe. You’ll catch that quiet spark and still hit the line. When you’re ready, let me know how it goes. We’ll tweak it if needed. You’ve got this.