Stuck in a rut.

Howdy doody!

As brief as this piece is, click any part of this text for a tune!

Ugh, somehow two weeks have passed without me throwing up so much as a morsel on here. Considering how early I am into this, that seems ominous.

Like I should be concerned…

.

..

… Fuck.

.

..

… !

 

No, its ok, right?

Allow me to explain…

The Explanation

It’s that damn project I mentioned before. It is living in my head rent free, with all other thoughts being forced to vacate the premises as promptly as possible. My brainosphere (totally an academic word) is a clusterfuck, with a cacophony of business words reverberating throughout.

Henri Fayol discovered business management theory on a digsite when he was trapped in a cave for 40 days and nights.

Business management is about learning how to keep your social lessers in a vicious job cycle by making them feel valued, because you had the decency to use their name during the conversation.

Henri Fayol wore his collar too damn high.

 

henri-fayol-toolshero
His love of neck cleavage and vulnerable Adam’s apples would prove to be his undoing.

Despite it being massively trimmed down, I feel I’ve not one iota how to structure the bastard thing. Sure, I could just get writing page after page and edit/trim/bloat it where required, but who the hell does that!? Who just leaps in blindly and rambles and rambles until he figures out what the hell he wants to sa- OH SHIT THATS ME!

Maybe,

Just Maybe,

I should actually crack on with the wretched thing?

No…

That makes too much sense.

I have tried, mind you. I have,

Sort of.

There are pages done, roughly eight or so. But Christ,

I want a break from it, y’know.

I want my brain to feel like it can breathe…

I’ll try work on something else, but I can’t. Be it this blog, some prose, heck, maybe just 500 words or so dealie whacker (if you don’t know about dealie whackers, blame the education system) for fun. Yet getting into a rhythm, finding the right word in a particular sentence just feels beyond me now. I have roughly 1500 words or so written about Emperor Palpatine (STAR WARS HYPE!) but upon re-reading, or even when I’m trying to tweak a sentence to give it some life, it just looks like words to me.

Bare text, 

And I can’t see myself in it.

Which sucks. I dunno if the world is exactly screaming for my planned thesis on Sheev Palpatine, it’s just something I’d like to try as I think it would be good for my head to convert my fanboy squealings into an article. And overall, I’d like to whinge less here, if possible.

It appears to be very much so “unpossible”.

For now, unless watching Game of Thrones, warding off the guilt of “not doing  seems like a monumental task. No matter what I do, there’s a nagging voice telling me to stop whatever it is I’m currently making, and just project all my thoughts at the project. To be fair, that voice isn’t wrong, not by half as I most sincerely need to get stuck into it, but before that, I desperately require my brainosphere (its a word!) to relax for a moment. 

When it comes to anxieties like these, the best cure is always (well, maybe not always always but lets agree on mostly always) to just meet it head on. Give it 5 minutes and POOF, the fears are over. That is just how these things go.

But finding the will to tackle things head-on is another skill altogether. Alas, I’ve found the only two solutions to be either have a small dose of liquid courage OR accept that with the article due within 24 hours, there is no further time to delay.

Which is a lie, of course.

We can always make time to delay.

P.S

That it took 90 mins or so to conjure up this entire article should really emphasise just how skull-fucked I am. Deadline for the project is May 1st so let us all hope I’m feeling a touch saner after that.

One thought on “Stuck in a rut.

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