Why is it that when there is no time, we burn to do so many things, and when we manage to have time, we seem to have no will to do them?
How can one get the timing right?
How can passion correspond with will? Isn't passion a form of will, that initial urge? What fiendish mystery of entropy is this?
Once thing is certain -- procrastination is not completely at fault.
Some of it is our instinct, causing the hum of uncertainty, telling us that something else might be going on underneath the surface.
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