Get with it, Cosmos! Pull your shit together!
I hate this. Being this person. Being out of my groove and throwing off my entire existance. Heavy, I know. Thats why I'm so messed up about it.
In this last week, I have had serious hallucinations, one resulting in me waking up screaming for my roommate, ("Eve! Eve! Help! Help!" Verbatim.), experienced that "fight-or-flight" PANG in my chest a handful of times, I am in a funk about my relationships, and lack therof, I can't get out of my own head.
Why is it that my apartment seems to be this abyss in which time, space, matter and life have no particular relavence? I love my apartment, however, it is so that as soon as I pass through the front door, all motivation goes out the window. And even if the motivation comes back ,the execution fails and I don't do a damn thing. For instance I have had 2-3 weeks on my project and 2 papers due respectively monday and tusday. I havent done a lick of any of them. Which stresses me out and preoccupies my existance because I think about my stress about my work constantly. Plus my not doing artwork, which stresses me about review boards.
I am on a slippery slope, but is it necessarily on an incline? Can I have a horizontal slope and just be moving FAST, so fast I can't catch up, but not necessarily ending in a crash at the bottom? A frictionless slip-and-slide, on which I am scrambling with all my limbs to slow down, find my bearings, decide which way is up and regain control, but I just keep sliding at top-speed, spending all my energy fighting these forces fruitlessly.
The more I worry and freak and descend into deep introspection, the more time it takes, which takes up time I need to do work, so I freak out more that I'm not doing work. All this time alone, thinking, worrying about my slip-and-slide, makes me just want to bury myself into arms that will comfort me. And the fact that I don't have that worries me as well. God, I am such a trainwreck. No, train-wrecks have stopped. They are terminal. I am a train on fire, cascading down the tracks, unable to stop itself and everyone onlooking worries it may explode. But no one is around to look. A train on fire on tracks in the middle of the tundra with no one in sight for miles. No one aboard but the helpless conductor and his madness. her madness.
Wasnt there a book called, "Stop the world, I want to get off"?
In this last week, I have had serious hallucinations, one resulting in me waking up screaming for my roommate, ("Eve! Eve! Help! Help!" Verbatim.), experienced that "fight-or-flight" PANG in my chest a handful of times, I am in a funk about my relationships, and lack therof, I can't get out of my own head.
Why is it that my apartment seems to be this abyss in which time, space, matter and life have no particular relavence? I love my apartment, however, it is so that as soon as I pass through the front door, all motivation goes out the window. And even if the motivation comes back ,the execution fails and I don't do a damn thing. For instance I have had 2-3 weeks on my project and 2 papers due respectively monday and tusday. I havent done a lick of any of them. Which stresses me out and preoccupies my existance because I think about my stress about my work constantly. Plus my not doing artwork, which stresses me about review boards.
I am on a slippery slope, but is it necessarily on an incline? Can I have a horizontal slope and just be moving FAST, so fast I can't catch up, but not necessarily ending in a crash at the bottom? A frictionless slip-and-slide, on which I am scrambling with all my limbs to slow down, find my bearings, decide which way is up and regain control, but I just keep sliding at top-speed, spending all my energy fighting these forces fruitlessly.
The more I worry and freak and descend into deep introspection, the more time it takes, which takes up time I need to do work, so I freak out more that I'm not doing work. All this time alone, thinking, worrying about my slip-and-slide, makes me just want to bury myself into arms that will comfort me. And the fact that I don't have that worries me as well. God, I am such a trainwreck. No, train-wrecks have stopped. They are terminal. I am a train on fire, cascading down the tracks, unable to stop itself and everyone onlooking worries it may explode. But no one is around to look. A train on fire on tracks in the middle of the tundra with no one in sight for miles. No one aboard but the helpless conductor and his madness. her madness.
Wasnt there a book called, "Stop the world, I want to get off"?