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olorielAaaaargh.
I should be writing about the goings-on of the past month, but there were so many I forgot half of them because I couldn't be arsed to write about them while they were happening, and actually I can't be arsed now, either, even if I remembered what it was.
I should be writing about London and the Drachenfest LARP, i.e. past and this weekend, and I don't know what to write and it'd take too long and I just can't motivate myself.
I should be continuing my crappy story and I just. can't. It's not even real writer's block, I know what happens, I have it formulated in my mind - I just cannot bring my fingers to type it. I stare at the page and think "oh, to what purpose, anyway", and three hours later I'll shut down the computer without anything done.
I should be writing essays for university, good grief, and suddenly it all feels so enormously pointless. I mean, why the fuck should anyone in their right mind want to read or write essays on UNESCO world heritage cultural landscapes in Sweden and their effects on Saami reindeer herding? Or on just what exactly Sir Gawain blames himself for? Seriously, why do people waste their time on this kind of triviality? Just why am I wasting my time studying pointless stuff towards some uncertain goal? Just so in the end I am qualified to have deep thoughts on unemployment in German, English and Japanese?
(Yes, yes, I know - because I wouldn't know what else to do anyway, and at least as long as I'm studying I don't actually have to decide on a career.)
There is trouble about appointments and money and deadlines and expectations and stupid people and I should be making decisions and get stuff done and just fucking get myself out of this stupid depressive hole, and I don't. I try to pretend it's all fine and I can handle it, but just now the simple truth is that I want a good big break so I can get stuff sorted out - except if I had the time, I'd just procrastinate and do other things anyway, so it wouldn't help anyway.
The days are too short, and too long, and I feel like an idiot.
I don't even really know where this is coming from.
I hate being in this mood.
- - -
I think I'll try to write about the Drachenfest tomorrow, and just ignore that the rest of July ever happened, because I'll never get anything done if I tell myself I can't move on before I've dealt with July. July? What July? July 2008 only had three or four days, I swear.
I should be writing about the goings-on of the past month, but there were so many I forgot half of them because I couldn't be arsed to write about them while they were happening, and actually I can't be arsed now, either, even if I remembered what it was.
I should be writing about London and the Drachenfest LARP, i.e. past and this weekend, and I don't know what to write and it'd take too long and I just can't motivate myself.
I should be continuing my crappy story and I just. can't. It's not even real writer's block, I know what happens, I have it formulated in my mind - I just cannot bring my fingers to type it. I stare at the page and think "oh, to what purpose, anyway", and three hours later I'll shut down the computer without anything done.
I should be writing essays for university, good grief, and suddenly it all feels so enormously pointless. I mean, why the fuck should anyone in their right mind want to read or write essays on UNESCO world heritage cultural landscapes in Sweden and their effects on Saami reindeer herding? Or on just what exactly Sir Gawain blames himself for? Seriously, why do people waste their time on this kind of triviality? Just why am I wasting my time studying pointless stuff towards some uncertain goal? Just so in the end I am qualified to have deep thoughts on unemployment in German, English and Japanese?
(Yes, yes, I know - because I wouldn't know what else to do anyway, and at least as long as I'm studying I don't actually have to decide on a career.)
There is trouble about appointments and money and deadlines and expectations and stupid people and I should be making decisions and get stuff done and just fucking get myself out of this stupid depressive hole, and I don't. I try to pretend it's all fine and I can handle it, but just now the simple truth is that I want a good big break so I can get stuff sorted out - except if I had the time, I'd just procrastinate and do other things anyway, so it wouldn't help anyway.
The days are too short, and too long, and I feel like an idiot.
I don't even really know where this is coming from.
I hate being in this mood.
- - -
I think I'll try to write about the Drachenfest tomorrow, and just ignore that the rest of July ever happened, because I'll never get anything done if I tell myself I can't move on before I've dealt with July. July? What July? July 2008 only had three or four days, I swear.
