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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 Fight(cont.)



I don't even know why I thought I could focus on writing a blog when I have actual work for the first time in about 6 months. Didn't even have time to go on social media at all(just as well, Monday is just wall-to-wall Game of Thrones spoilers). But I did get some things done, so I feel good about that. I have also thought a little bit more about whether or not I want to have an audience and what I would want that audience to look like. Obviously I want an audience(I think), but that does mean adding a lot more creativity to what I feel so that I can maybe engage some people instead of just vomiting up my  thoughts and feelings online. On the other hand, angling for an audience means I'm just setting myself up for a huge disappointment later. There is something to be said about being creative for creativity's sake(also the positive effects of dealing with my emotions instead of burying them), but it would be a little dishonest to say that I really thought I was capable of truly not caring what other people thought. I wouldn't mind the freedom that comes with writing fiction or poetry, to be able to stretch the most trivial slights into things that could literally kill a ficitonal character. My melodrama would probably do better in an fictional realm and I wouldn't have to worry about being too specific.

I also told my mom about my graduation issues and started sorting them out, I managed to have an entire workday where I didn't feel like I was totally faking or/and winging it. I went the extra mile for a decent dinner. It probably says something about me that I can acknowledge how minor these achievements would seem if I were looking in from the outside while still appreciating what they mean to me, subjectively. Maybe I am starting to go easier on myself, maybe I just had a good day. Either way, I have earned this post.
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