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“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

--T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

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The Awesome Power of Procrastination

*Trigger Warning: self-harm The power of procrastination is so awesome that even though I have been without Internet access for several hours and I have things that I think I want to do, I have spent that time lying on top of my bed thinking about how I would do all the things I want to do if I were to do them. Very productive. I think that the ideas I have are worth so much more in my head, I can fetishize every negative feeling and pretend that it makes me special or interesting in some way. But when the thoughts become words that I type out and read back, I realise how banal everything about me is. That's probably the real reason writing blog posts and writing in my journal gets a little harder every time. Here is a quick list of the things I should be doing right now: On Tuesday I had a very intense dream that was terrifying enough to make me feel slightly separate from my body all week. Even now, everything feels a little unreal and abnormal; I haven't stopped
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The Insomnia

The first day is not bad, you have some coffee and grumble about how tired you are and then move on. But at this point I feel like I'm constantly sinking, deeper and deeper into some underwater trench. I can't breathe, the Nothing is covering every single part of my body. And I can't swim up. I never, ever thought that I'd ever wish to feel something so deeply that I cry. I never thought I'd miss being alive.

I told my therapist I was bored and he said that that's what kids say when they're still young and they don't have that much control over what they get to do with their day. Maybe "bored" wasn't the right word, but I didn't want to say, "I've lost my appetite for life" because then I'd hate myself much more than I've ever hated myself before. But that is how I feel; I'm not just bored, I don't feel like doing anything. I live in this stunning city, I have these amazing friends and I have a new credit card. But I don't want to do anything.

I drink a lot, like the disturbed people in the movies. I drink to remember. I drink to forget. I drink so that every day won't feel like a year. I hope I die today.

A four wall room is one thing,
But when just your face rocks the world
How does a beating heart stay still?
When your name is etched into the sun
Making it so bright as to burn the skin
How can I possibly hope to dream?
Endless cups of tea and cigarettes
Mark out points in time like beacons in a wasteland.
Each one pointing onwards, forwards
To a place of fertility.
But when time and space conspire against you
How does one possibly hope to remain within the race?
When strength of feeling is not enough,
When mutual embrace unfolds,
When life moves on without love,
How then do we live within ourselves?
A four wall room is one thing,
But an empty bed is quite another. 

-- Mathew Lewis
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