it’s been a month since monday, but it zoomed past at mindbending speed. the things set aside in favor of more urgent matters are fast becoming emergencies in their own right, & the more intense this gets, the more tangential my response. faced with twice as much to do as i have time in which to do it, i will invariably obsess on something else entirely, & afterall it’s only fair. if i were to address the things that need doing knowing i could not do them all, it would mean choosing some over some others, & what does that say about those poor urgent others? sorry i failed you, i had important things to attend to. but if i avoid everything in general, i can offer comfort in the form of don’t feel bad, you’re not alone in being undone, see? no things whatsoever were accomplished in any way.
it’s all too important not to fail to accomplish in equal measure.
at some point, of course, even the most whimsical interpretation falls away & leaves me feeling this chilling disappoinment with my ownself, unhappy to be the sort of person i’m not unhappy enough about to change.
& so i have reached a level of exhaustion i myself can hardly imagine, & i have nothing substantial at all to show for it. & as empty as this is & as justifiable as it isn’t, there is a sense of trueness to self; this is who i am, it is what i do. at some point i will find whatever necessary & manage minimally, to the extent i can weave a little spin between what was done & what should have been, & have it hold. as empty as this is, as justifiable as it isn’t.