As you scramble through your feed in disbelief, you come across this post. No, you didn’t ingest something psychedelic earlier.
I absolutely am writing this blog just because I’m bored and don’t really have much critically impending work to be busy with. I suppose I could catch up on projects in Drawing, but you know how it is. I got time.
But what if I don’t? It’s been on my mind recently how I can be mentally screaming at myself to get up and do work, but on the outside, I’m just chilling. If I ever look at you, and you can tell I’m not paying attention by the dead look on my face, then that means I’m lost in thought and not aware of anything immediately around me, but at the same time I might be obsessing over the realization of my lack of productivity despite my quality of work, or something darker. I could be fighting a whole war in my head, trying to think straight only to be tormented by my willpower spiraling out of reach, but all you see is – 🙂
It’s sad. I’ve been depressed. All I can really do is carry on and tell myself it’ll be OK because I’m headed in the right direction. I have clothes and food at home, my grades are good, I’m not caught in a brutal civil war, my government, although prying, is not a glaringly obvious threat to my well being on the surface. Life’s bad, but life’s good. All I really need is the introduction of some factor to make my life more efficient, and not some tragic appearance that brings with it an unforeseen struggle.
In recent years it’s been more of the latter barging into my existence, but I’m not even close to losing hope given the fact that I really do seem wiser as time goes on. I can critique my past like the most educated of judges, but when it comes to even the present day, I don’t take much for granted and usually take it easy. Have I lulled myself into a false sense of security? Do I need to make a move this second to save myself from an otherwise inevitable unremarkable life?
These are questions I ask myself on a regular basis. If you could peek into my mind it would be the seemingly shallowest unestimatably bottomless chasm of thought processes, hopes, dreams, presuppositions, upheld morals, broken morals, and other neurological things you could never fully relate to.
I guess that’s how we all are. Maybe.
Honestly I have no idea.
If you want to help me out, then the next time you see me, remind me that I have something to take care of as soon as possible and that putting it aside mentally is unhealthy. If everyone I knew was a little harder on me and went out of their way to encourage me I might have less to worry about.
Now it’s at five hundred words.