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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

The Attempted Song Writitng part 2

Verse 1
Sitting here watching the sun set
Another day down.
I still have to get through the night, but
I'm halfway there now.

Chorus
Maybe tomorrow
My luck will turn around.
Maybe tomorrow
It will all work out
I clench my fists
And hold my breath,
Hope light catches me before Death
And maybe tomorrow I'll win out.

Verse 2
Spend the night waiting for sunrise,
Close my eyes real tight.
Try to sleep to make the time fly,
How is this my life?

Bridge
Hungry and tattered:
This is my life.
Blind hope until noon,
Grasping 'til midnight.

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