...of things I need/must/should/want to do.
Symptoms of procrastination in a lengthy time of frustration ultimately leads me to the most treacherous of sites.
The 'I-hate-admitting-I-spend-my-evening-mindlessly-scrolling-on-here' website; Buzzfeed. I could slag it off like it's the Daily Mail's dirty fling on the side but it is undeniably a fantastic time filler.
The 'I-hate-admitting-I-spend-my-evening-mindlessly-scrolling-on-here' website; Buzzfeed. I could slag it off like it's the Daily Mail's dirty fling on the side but it is undeniably a fantastic time filler.
Yet as I sit here in my hospital bedroom, as bored as a pineapple during winter, with zilch to do and nowhere to go, I find myself veering off from one of Buzzfeed's classic '19 Beaches In America You Must Visit' posts, becoming more annoyed at being stuck in a rut. I'm forever daydreaming (and googling) about these places that I should be going to, things that I need to experience, to own, to eat, to buy, to visit, to snort, to drink, to rescue, to photograph, to destroy, before I die. Social media, as unavoidable as it is, drugs me up on envy; my news feed is on a constant cycle of picture perfect, jam-packed summer posts. - Probably not helped by having a silly amount of faux friends. Nor the instagram filters making anything look ten times nicer.
Of course, every time I'm left with itchy feet. (Ew feet). And no direction. (Not even a Harry Styles or Zayn Malik).
Don't get me wrong, having aims and plans are a big kick up my pancake arse for recovery. But the in-between time is like a 4 hour queue for Oblivion at Alton Towers. But worse. Much worse. And you don't even know if you'll be allowed on the ride by the time you get to it. So to pass the time, I look at more things I could be doing. AKA, more things I'm missing out on.
I take out my frustration onto other people (sincerest apologies mum), and can easily get carried away into moaning or catapulting the blame onto everybody else. Yet ultimately, I spend the majority of my time frothing up my mind like the foam left in a cappuccino.
This is, apparently, my favourite hobby; beating myself up. Yes I have made fuck ups. I've allowed my kitchen utensil brain to over whisk the meringue. I've screwed over so many friendships, missed out on holidays, deferred university, etc. etc. moan moan moan, blah blah blah black sheep. But continuing to just get angry at myself for these things for happening, will achieve nothing. Nada. I can add to my bucket list until it reaches the top of that ugly skyscraper in Brighton, but the whiff of the dog turd at the bottom still lingers to the top. Nobody likes the smell of poo.
I guess this is just a reminder; stop dwelling on the past. Don't let the shitstorm of the past cloud over into the present. It's all hippie-dippie stuff, this 'here and now,' 'peace and love' babble, but hippies always seem so zen (love that word), so I suppose they must be doing something right! Or am I just being naive and need to accept that cannabis is the answer and sort myself out with a hefty joint? (Kidding mum...)
I'll try to keep to my word and stop feeling sorry for myself, but we shall see how things pan(cake) out...
Later alligators x
I take out my frustration onto other people (sincerest apologies mum), and can easily get carried away into moaning or catapulting the blame onto everybody else. Yet ultimately, I spend the majority of my time frothing up my mind like the foam left in a cappuccino.
This is, apparently, my favourite hobby; beating myself up. Yes I have made fuck ups. I've allowed my kitchen utensil brain to over whisk the meringue. I've screwed over so many friendships, missed out on holidays, deferred university, etc. etc. moan moan moan, blah blah blah black sheep. But continuing to just get angry at myself for these things for happening, will achieve nothing. Nada. I can add to my bucket list until it reaches the top of that ugly skyscraper in Brighton, but the whiff of the dog turd at the bottom still lingers to the top. Nobody likes the smell of poo. I guess this is just a reminder; stop dwelling on the past. Don't let the shitstorm of the past cloud over into the present. It's all hippie-dippie stuff, this 'here and now,' 'peace and love' babble, but hippies always seem so zen (love that word), so I suppose they must be doing something right! Or am I just being naive and need to accept that cannabis is the answer and sort myself out with a hefty joint? (Kidding mum...)
I'll try to keep to my word and stop feeling sorry for myself, but we shall see how things pan(cake) out...
Time to be a whisk taker and just whip it. Whip it real good.
Later alligators x
