It's late

It's late and I am not done with this day yet. I should probably stop writing now, and fall into bed. Why should I do that though, such an act would only delay the pain of doing the work. I don't dread it, I don't know what the deal is really. It's like my brain wants to focus on everything else but that. When I done with it, I will feel no joy, no sense of accomplishment. It will be just another one done till the next one comes around. The long term, that's what keeps me going, the long term. I don't think I am happy right now, I wouldn't say it, but I can write it, yep I am not happy right now. Back to reality, wow there goes gravity.