I think i might submit this shit to the Acorn Mag :D
It was always there, whatever you did...
When the time approached it would begin to loom, sprouting outwards, crooning softly, knowing it was working away at your resolve.
Sometimes you'd fall asleep, trying to obliterate its presence, distract your mind with company, food, an hour at the laptop...but somehow, the existence of it growing, thickening, taking on an assertive odor so familiar.
Tick
It's behavior was akin of that to an unfed chick or decaying food. You know, that part of your mind saturated with a subdued sense of guilt - unpredictable, suddenly strongly disrupting your thoughts then slipping away. But always, you'd feel the perpetual drumming on the side your skull, knowing that you'd need to confront it soon.
You'd neglect it for a day, then it would beat back the waves to be louder and more aggressive.
One of these days, you'd give in. It was inevitable anyway.
Tock
The proximity of the day is suddenly so real, so palpable. You know you're in trouble, you've been so bent on ignoring the whining, the grumbling, the hissing and time has slipped by.
One of these days, you reach towards it.
The dreaded sheaf of papers. That book. And suddenly, your table is a strewn with a confetti of stationary.
Knew you'd have to
Revise.
When the time approached it would begin to loom, sprouting outwards, crooning softly, knowing it was working away at your resolve.
Sometimes you'd fall asleep, trying to obliterate its presence, distract your mind with company, food, an hour at the laptop...but somehow, the existence of it growing, thickening, taking on an assertive odor so familiar.
Tick
It's behavior was akin of that to an unfed chick or decaying food. You know, that part of your mind saturated with a subdued sense of guilt - unpredictable, suddenly strongly disrupting your thoughts then slipping away. But always, you'd feel the perpetual drumming on the side your skull, knowing that you'd need to confront it soon.
You'd neglect it for a day, then it would beat back the waves to be louder and more aggressive.
One of these days, you'd give in. It was inevitable anyway.
Tock
The proximity of the day is suddenly so real, so palpable. You know you're in trouble, you've been so bent on ignoring the whining, the grumbling, the hissing and time has slipped by.
One of these days, you reach towards it.
The dreaded sheaf of papers. That book. And suddenly, your table is a strewn with a confetti of stationary.
Knew you'd have to
Revise.