October 7, 2011 Insane in the Membrane
I’ve recently signed up for UCLUWRFC, much to my superego’s chagrin, and these days I really do feel like I’m turning into dust/ashes which each passing breeze — as it is, it’s already bad enough considering the inevitable contemplation of time as length, breadth and depth among other tedious dimensionalities; it’s like I’m phenomenologically defeated before I even start the day, if that made any grammatical or ontological sense. Conceptually, I have as much strength as the force of gravity confronted by a common household magnet. Charming. Anyway, I hope, with some kind of Schopenhauerian fortitude, I might be able to find myself a place in the starting team and a much more flattering disposition than now.
Classes haven’t quite started yet which is a little disappointing considering the general pace of things. But I know I will be half-submerged even before the realization that Autumn is over, by then I will hope to have unravelled some fiendishly sick brilliance of the Late-Bloomer variety if not will itself. My only motivation now is that my first two essays are due before The Kills in mid-November. However in a parallel universe, I would’ve already finished them last week so part of me actually thinks that I’m free, yet another part of me will once again leave it until the last minute since I’ve already done it so to speak, therefore the essay will naturally write itself when the pressure of deadlines reach critical mass. This is the part where Fréddi B. asks, “Who are you?” and I would be least capable of giving any intelligible answer because I would have melted into a decrepit pool of inexplicable helplessness by then.
Tags: I could kill myself with a thought, Monologue, Take this sinking boat and point it home we've still got time
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