deliciously half-done

2024, june 30

stepping out of the grindset means finding life in the unfinished. it’s settling into an armchair amidst unpacked boxes and overturned furniture. it’s soaking up a sunbeam like a cat sprawled on this island called an armchair. stepping out means declaring “time for ice cream!” with a sense of ending the workday before it even starts. it’s lying down with a capri-sun in the hammock, ringing in the after-work hours, tasks still half-done.

stepping out is trusting that your own drive will carve its path, and all you need to do is follow, like forrest gump. it’s letting your drive take over, allowing productivity to break through when it wants to.

stepping out feels like seizing a weekend in the middle of the week, sneaking into a dark cinema at ten on a sunny tuesday morning to munch on popcorn. it’s taking a vacation in the middle of work and progress. it’s interruptive pleasure instead of well-achieved leisure. it’s the liveliness of the incomplete.

stepping out means letting your shoulders drop, raising a toast to the present, humming pippi longstocking tunes as the unfinished is allowed to bubble within you.