My mind, however, feels blank these days. Seems like it's hibernating or gone into a hermetic trance.
Like I've given myself up too wholeheartedly to the glorious mundane, to the point that it has permeated my veins and now throbs with my heart in unison.
Has gotta be a way around it. Just been so ferociously displeased, erratically moody and irritated.
There are too many reasons, truth be told.
In fact there's one headlining reason, the others are just minor bullet points.
Ugh. Also, life's getting in the way of alter cosmos; spending time alone with my thoughts fertilized my farms of fantasy, but all I've got now is a cotton-mouth island of insipid inspirations.
Perhaps I could alliterate myself out of this.
Not likely though.
Is it because I'm seriously not sitting down to finish what I'd started? Because I've got too many things knocking about in my mind that make me so restless all the time?
Perhaps I should begin by scratching out pending elements on my to do list, that can be easily accomplished.
Like my food blog. All the shifting and the traveling has put updating it on a hold, I feel guilty just thinking about it.
I'd resolved to update it every Wednesday and that's perhaps what I should do. Beginning this Wednesday.
So on and so forth, I guess.
Dipping your fingers in too many sauces and unable to discern the taste of even a single one.
Thankfully I'm not a lazy fuck, though god knows I've tried being one. If only I'd been lazy, my life would've been so much easier. Nothing to bother about, low on priorities, procrastinating like a baus, unconcerned, impervious to reality, blasé, callous and happy.
Underlying reasons are many, chief among them is the fact that I'm disinclined to be content, that my expectations from life are dizzying, that I'm greedy and want to hog each dollop of every fragment of all the dimensions in existence, and, mon ami, it can get exhausting, exasperating; to the point of writing a rant.
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