Quiet Rantlet
Jan. 26th, 2005 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphLately I've been paying very little attention to reality. I'll notice that it's there, and be aware of what it's doing, but then slip back into the more congenial world of my imagination. There have been disruptions of what feels like a rheumatic nature to my sleep. My neck and left hand don't like the cold and damp, and they will develop an ache sufficiently intense to wake me up. These disruptions are among the things which cause me to withdraw from reality. I think it's that I don't get enough REM sleep, and must compensate with daydreams.
That I too frequently find current reality both dull and frustrating contributes as well. The daily (or nightly, to be accurate) round of tasks, irregularly distributed as they are to provide frequent small disruptions, are not conducive to that extended concentration of which I am in need if I am to accomplish anything else. Projects pile up undone, and their gathering mass becomes intimidating. At the same time, there is no break from the monotony. I have done the same things again and again for years, and nothing changes. It all remains to be done yet again.
In short, I'm running out of energy. Objects begin to feel slightly heavier, tasks take slightly longer, and each disruption I encounter grows slightly more tiring to deal with. I suppose the only thing to do is develop a taste for butterscotch hard candy, and start looking for a retirement home. But rather than be practical, I wander off into the realms of imagination, where my energy is boundless and disruption is displaced by diversion. It's a downward spiral, I think, leading to no good end. I think maybe I need to throw some stuff out, before it gets too heavy to lift.
Oh, yeah. It's still raining.
That I too frequently find current reality both dull and frustrating contributes as well. The daily (or nightly, to be accurate) round of tasks, irregularly distributed as they are to provide frequent small disruptions, are not conducive to that extended concentration of which I am in need if I am to accomplish anything else. Projects pile up undone, and their gathering mass becomes intimidating. At the same time, there is no break from the monotony. I have done the same things again and again for years, and nothing changes. It all remains to be done yet again.
In short, I'm running out of energy. Objects begin to feel slightly heavier, tasks take slightly longer, and each disruption I encounter grows slightly more tiring to deal with. I suppose the only thing to do is develop a taste for butterscotch hard candy, and start looking for a retirement home. But rather than be practical, I wander off into the realms of imagination, where my energy is boundless and disruption is displaced by diversion. It's a downward spiral, I think, leading to no good end. I think maybe I need to throw some stuff out, before it gets too heavy to lift.
Oh, yeah. It's still raining.
