bee stuck in honey
“i’m fine!” - as I point out all the good, brilliant reasons to justify the sleep deprivation.
“i did this, and this, and that, and then I went there and did the thing, I went back and stopped for this - barely stopped but hey! Things are done!”
now I look at my fingers closely - the tips are sore. There’s some blood in the cuticle area, I can’t stop biting them. My jaw has been firmly closed and my head spins as my eyes dry up no matter how much gel I gently place on them. My lips are cracked and bitting them is also a thing in high-speed-living-high-productivity-low-rest-mode. They sting a bit where I removed some of the delicate skin on them. I finally drink a BIG glass of water, too much in one go but a needed one.
my body only signals when it’s too late, something I’m still learning about. Hyperfocus and the compulsion to use it (have to give some use to the randomness of it!) or complete fuzzy freeze that stops everything except my own perception of guilt.
I’ve managed to remove all nail varnish with my teeth… It took me a long time to have it “nice” like this (which is not more than a normal application… 99.9% of the time I forget I just brushed some colour on as soon as I finish and go about using my hands as usual). The other .1% don’t last long because of these waves of “happening”. Waves of happening…
i do not believe them to be my own creation… as much as I understand their cyclical nature and the way it feeds itself, it’s not bound to my awareness and control. As if behind some wall there’s a small group of people designing new obstacles in my life timeline - they don’t meet very often (salvation!) but when they do they like to make it complicated, throwing around too many for such short bouts of time and energy. They go away while I’m left behaving like an animated character, - including the blur of previous frames of movement and my fast pace around the city.
and I do it all, and do it even better every time I feel them on the other side of the wall, getting ready for another hit… Knowing I should never accept that script, there are scenes that need to be performed, those that should’ve been taped days, weeks, months or even years ago. And so, I diligently forget the confines of the physical body and move ahead as if the only steps I’m taking are happening in a somber dream.
then… I wake up to relief. And the signs of too much work in too little time.
no, I do not provoke waves. It does seem that everyone else around suddenly decide (in absolute secrecy) to feed me problems and worries. Like a tennis ball machine - throwing all of them at once while I jump around to hit every single one of them until it goes empty and I leave the court in sweat and tears.
what can I say? “It’s done” - it is a positive emotion, one of “duty” accomplished but the nagging sensation of knowing I didn’t ask for anything of this sure shakes my also dutiful rest and peace.
i did it. Again.
i will do it. Again.
not for long though. My blurry vision and blood red scuffs are warning me loud and clear.
fgcdox9
´x´\
these characters were left by my lovely cat princess that walked on the keyboard - she loves the laptop. She looks at the screen with such interest! Unfortunately, she knows how to pause videos and grab my attention by closing it… what’s not to love?
off to a good night’s rest.
or a night’s rest.
just rest. All I can get.
