It's maybe the lack of metaphor or the inappropriateness of it that this entry may just sit perfectly in my drafts or rather fit in the trash. Either way, I'm still writing... Despite the obvious that I am lacking creativity in composing a good introduction.
Truly, I feel dragged. With every single strand of muscle in my body seem to complain by continuously torturing me with muscle cramps. And this has never happened to me before. I don't like it.
I have pushed myself today physically. Distraction has become a resolution to everything that needs re-fixing and/or maintenance-- the little holes and cracks and heat, to say the least.
But, as always, distractions are momentary. It may last from a second to a couple of days or weeks (or longer) but don't expect it to carry you through your entire life. It may become a routine, but a routine gets really, genuinely, absolutely boring. The level of dullness and the dimensionless of the routine forces you to stop and realize what you've been missing. And once you pause/stop, you will feel all the tiredness and weariness that you have been putting aside to drop on your shoulders and fill your head. Insanity, that is.
And so I feel like that today, though, I have yet to feast on a proper rest in a couple of hours or maybe after this.
So if someone, other than myself, is reading this, then I guess I have to thank you for lending me your patience and understanding for the person who seems to be craving for physical, mental, and (most importantly) emotional rest.I salute you. Cos I can't even be patient with my own..
*The handouts in my philosophy class and the book-- Paper Towns by John Green-- that I just finished an hour ago pushed me even harder to pursue writing this tonight. So don't blame me... (oh, whatever!)
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