Halatinous
I have unconsciously succeeded in the organization of my day into little packets, and apparently, have also become expert at moving seamlessly between them. What this is creating is the illusion of extended length for each day. Time seems to move slower while sitting at this little machine, and almost comes to a stand-still during meal times and cigarette breaks. Well, perhaps not Time itself. I'd be hard pressed to actually define what I think Time is, so I guess I should clear this up and say I'm talking about it's marked passage. I suppose it's all relative to the observer, anyway.
Despite all that, it is becoming increasingly difficult to describe my position and choose one of the many paths that seems to be opening before me. There simply isn't a choice in the selection that stands out as the obvious route, and continued analysis only serves for further homogenizing. Knowledge of consequence and reward almost seems to take on a binding role in these instances, shackling me to indecision. Do I fear changing some things that I enjoy about my life right now? I'm not ashamed to admit that may be true. I have adopted a strange sort of active movement, especially socially, however it is not in any particular direction. I am essentially a vibrating Weebl in Time, and it is rather invigorating for the most part. Moments of awkwardness still crop up now and again, but they pass, as all things do, around or through me. When this happens, these fluid processions, a root problem with this lifestyle is briefly exposed; to the casual party, I appear to have no movement at all and it is to this issue I turn a wary eye.
Sure, I care what people around me think of who I am or what I'm doing. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't, at least to some extent.
Despite all that, it is becoming increasingly difficult to describe my position and choose one of the many paths that seems to be opening before me. There simply isn't a choice in the selection that stands out as the obvious route, and continued analysis only serves for further homogenizing. Knowledge of consequence and reward almost seems to take on a binding role in these instances, shackling me to indecision. Do I fear changing some things that I enjoy about my life right now? I'm not ashamed to admit that may be true. I have adopted a strange sort of active movement, especially socially, however it is not in any particular direction. I am essentially a vibrating Weebl in Time, and it is rather invigorating for the most part. Moments of awkwardness still crop up now and again, but they pass, as all things do, around or through me. When this happens, these fluid processions, a root problem with this lifestyle is briefly exposed; to the casual party, I appear to have no movement at all and it is to this issue I turn a wary eye.
Sure, I care what people around me think of who I am or what I'm doing. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't, at least to some extent.