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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 Decaying Facade

Procrastination is a killer. I have so many things I need to write about and process and the longer I put them off, the more I wonder if it's even worth it to process these stupid issues.

"You get to a point where you run out of everything. You've gone through everyone. You have no money, you've done everything you could do. The last thing you can do is start over."-- Lana Del Rey, Complex magazine interview(2012)

 This past weekend I went to Joburg to buy a dress(the story associated with this dress is a long one, I'll deal with it some other time) and I got a lift back home with my friend and her sister. I was kind of slumping because I had wine the night before and I suffer from MDD. I didn't say much during the ride and when she asked me anything, I used my very best chipper voice(it was actually kind of creepy, if I'm honest). After they dropped me off, I got a message from my friend saying that her sister had asked for my e-mail address so she could help me find a job. When I read that, I just started crying. On the one hand, it's presumptuous and a little invasive. But knowing that someone saw how much pain I'm in and cared enough to try to help me even though we aren't in any way close changed things for me. I don't know if I cried because her kindness touched me or if it was the shame of knowing that everyone can see what a loser I am. Maybe it was just relief. I guess it doesn't matter one way or another if she can help me get a job(an incredible feat, to be sure) and find a way out of here.I don't know how I feel about the whole thing, but it's good to know I feel something.
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