Unless the LORD build the house
May. 23rd, 2012 11:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceWhy do I feel like I labour in vain?
I labour in vain for a reason. Art is its own excuse. Stories can exist for themselves alone, and that's okay. Like those people who dig great networks of tunnels under their houses, and no one finds out till they're dead: if they hadn't done it, there wouldn't be all those tunnels, and the world would be a little less. It doesn't matter if no one else ever explores down there; it doesn't matter if officious bodies insist on filling it all in. There will always have been tunnels, new pathways to new places.
Most days, that has always been enough.
Today, not so much.
I should probably go for a walk or something, to evade the issue. Vitamin D and endorphins: always good. But I have an edit to work my way through, and I really need to be getting on with that; and I wanted to be here for Amazon's second run at delivering a package; and, yeah. Labour in vain.
I labour in vain for a reason. Art is its own excuse. Stories can exist for themselves alone, and that's okay. Like those people who dig great networks of tunnels under their houses, and no one finds out till they're dead: if they hadn't done it, there wouldn't be all those tunnels, and the world would be a little less. It doesn't matter if no one else ever explores down there; it doesn't matter if officious bodies insist on filling it all in. There will always have been tunnels, new pathways to new places.
Most days, that has always been enough.
Today, not so much.
I should probably go for a walk or something, to evade the issue. Vitamin D and endorphins: always good. But I have an edit to work my way through, and I really need to be getting on with that; and I wanted to be here for Amazon's second run at delivering a package; and, yeah. Labour in vain.