It feels like all my time is rushing to meet a gathering force, skuttling to bar the way. Sidestepping usefulness, and piling atop one another in a bid to crush me under the stress and irony of it all. 3rd Year is almost over, but then, I feel so am I.
Everything returns into the light after the 8th of May, which stands perched upon the wall of a lighthouse, itself leaning on the edge of a cliff. I am working, I know this is so. But everything feels hazy, sluggish, and evading purpose, to point, to lead and admire.
I know I want to create, but creating the time to do so, requires my mind's co-operation. And it is playing silly buggers with procastination. Hence this journal entry.
Affirmations.
I'm going to finish these illustrations today.
I'm going to start my essay.
I'm going to publish a book.
I'm going to get a job for over the summer.
I've gone to do all these things...
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