This is the crux of my anxiety. I’ve been hurrying up and waiting for too long. It’s been putting me into such a lousy mental state, it ain’t no bag of clowns. I wanted to title this entry, Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Which would better capture how I really feel. Because, while the world passes me by, I’m left here, sitting on my hands looking like a coward, and perhaps I am. Or, at least I have been until now. What do I mean by that? Well, brace yourself, because this is the bomb before the book.
As hard as I tried to stay up til midnight on New Years Eve, I just couldn’t make it. So, it’s official. I’m old!
I woke up to 2019, early, as usual, and felt much the same as I did the year before. Only now I feel that stupid obligation to make changes to “better” myself. Great. More pressure.
It feels like I’m running in place, running another dent deeper into the ground, and now I’ve made myself sick again. Lately I’ve been doing nothing much else but sleeping. I think I got too mentally overwhelmed with things. I got personal shit, mixed with a long “to-do” list, and this damn book is going to be the death of me.
Sometimes, my brain fills with blood and anger thinking about how many hours I’ve racked up concentrating on needless worries, obsessing on useless tasks, trying my hand, desperately, toward futile goals. I suppose you don’t figure this shit out until you’re old. What the hell am I doing?? Where did the time go?
Despite the grim — albeit obviously sarcastic title of this post (you have to point that out to people sometimes), I do have some good news a’brewing. It’s big, so I’ll leave it for later down the post. This also gives me some time to hear back from my contact person as to whether I can speak about it yet. But geez, now I’m making it sound bigger than it is. I swear, this post is not going to be much different than my others. I shouldn’t have said anything. How do I get myself into these pickled predicaments? Gah.