and for what?

working long hours, very hard, and for what?
My own words and my own images are elusive. I cannot pull them out. I'm unexpressed, uninspired. I have not made space. Instead I climb an ever rising pile of to-do lists, spend hours in budget meetings.

Still, I stopped on the road home to take a photo.

That at least. Even if it is nothing.

Red light.

Stalled.

I will not measure it in worth, assign it a value. It is there.