Little sparrow, little sparrowPrecious fragile little thingLittle sparrow, little sparrowFlies so high and feels no pain
Poor little sparrow, but not so much sympathy for the nasty, pesty, invasive rock pigeons what flutter around and shit all over the place.
Not to mention fluttering thoughts what wander all over the place like butterflies all of which makes me wonder, just what kind of butterfly comes out of the green caterpillars that are ravaging my nemophilia.
It makes it tough to focus, but then again, why not just accept that I'm a slow starter in all projects and that the problem isn't (for the most part) in the starting but in the finishing?
I have little to do at the moment - at least little that I want to do - or maybe I just don't know what I want to do. The ructions - they come and go, but at least it's not been as bad as Lady Edith's day. The pwore thing. She had to get up the next morning for breakfast saying that she was a useful spinster, and useful spinsters get up for breakfast.
Oh, but back to the little sparrows mentioned above. Would it that all little sparrows fly high and feel no pain. It's sad to say that not all sparrows fly that high, or avoid the pain. For those that fall, or have their wings clipped, or their soaring spirits crushed, I will shed a tiny little tear (not one that lingers at the end of a five mile long chain though) for you, but dear hearts, I cannot spare any sympathy or empathy for you today. I need it all for myself because it's all part of the plan to be selfish and cut myself some slack.
Today's task. Start and Finish all tasks, whatever they are.
Integrity. Integrity. Integrity. That's the plan. Yes.