The invisible stairs

Twist, turn, walk, run, go backwards, dig trench, fill trench in, dig trench again... the feeling of report writing, i just want it done, i've had the idea, gotten my head around it, know what needs to be done... surely there's a program or a machine that will just write it for me... but i guess that misses that feeling of satisfaction you get from having done it, the hard slog, otherwise you could just get a machine to live out your life for you but then again having a machine to do all the hard work and i get to just play... is that such a bad idea? Or should i just play? Why do i keep feeling the need to work hard... i stand at a fork in the road, down one road lay rest, play and poverty, down the other lay hard work and success... i close my eyes, breathe deeply... i open them, 'ah!' there it is, the invisible staircase going upwards out of this dualistic delusion, upwards to a place of play and reward where the sun shines from every cell of my body and i'm filled with laughter and my work is continuos with joy and a natural product of my existence: but it does take courage and a trusting childlike joy to climb those stairs... i breathe deeply again and put one hand on the rail...