You know what, I really don't know the meaning of productivity.
And most importantly, I don't want to be a person with productivity.
I just want to be whoever I enjoy being.
I dreamed of flowers fields yesterday.
A flower garden.
Flowers are in blossom.
I smell them and pretend to be them.
I don't want to work.
I just want to be flowers.
Flowers in the sun.
Flowers in the rain.
Flowers await to be photographed with.
Flowers to wither.
But what seems ironic is flowers ARE productive.
They blossom.
Now I no longer want to be flowers.
-anonymous
I found this somewhere, and thought to myself, how perfect is this for me, right now.
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