Impressing Who?

Write something else no one will read—again.
End of Month Reflection:
“Really productive,” you write.
“Wrote a lot.
Progressing a lot.” Progress—
as if there’s somewhere to get to.
As if there’s a finish line—
a destination waiting just beyond the next sentence.
But you’re a Jeep, wheels spinning in the mud,
and the mud is infinite.
Pretending this has always been the route.

So productive. You wrote a lot.
Progressing—for what? The stark reality:
face it—head-on. For nothing, for no one.
Another lie, filed neatly with the rest.
Never revisited, not even for audit.
If you really wanted to be productive,
to be progressing, you’d spend that time
on your family. On your job.
You know—something that might matter. Or not.
Lady's choice.