The Tree of mrcury

I’m passionate about what I do. Such passion can be seen by other people as compulsive behaviour. And that’s probably what it is. But I really enjoy crafting marvelous CSS designs and admin areas - still pretty basic features, but I’m learning new stuff all the time - for hours. I’ve recently taken into account many useful resources as to how succeeding in getting rid of procrastination. Last night I surfed the internet compulsively as I’m doing more and more often, but among the usual dozen sites that don’t carry the frequent updates I wish they did, I found guides to overcome this big monster haunting me. The fact that I didn’t simply print the webpage out but instead delved into a “quick” half-hour typesetting job is relevant to my general attitude towards everything. That is, seek for perfection by all means. If I don’t like something or feel it could be improved, I just get my hands dirty and improve it. And it’s often on useless things. Maybe more the useless than the useful ones anyway. Procrastination is rooted deep in me because, being a perfectionist, I always focus on the results. I’m always trying to get praise or recognition. Which isn’t really a bad thing per se. What’s really ruining the magic is the fact that I can’t stop thinking about failing. I’ve had my fair amount of success and my fair amount of failure, but the latter is just more powerful to me. It has a grip on my stomach. It tells me to stop, and when it does I just have to. I just do it. So here I am with stomachache, my spine hurts and my ass is most likely flat for having been sat all day. Oh, I was forgetting my elbows. They hurt too. So the sun is up and I haven’t slept a wink. I haven’t been sleeping properly for months. Forget the bad dreams, those I can forget. It’s about the life I’m not living, that’s what it is.

Please, someone give me something that makes me feel better.

Mondays are just appendixes of Sundays. The real beginning is on Tuesdays!

Expectations always make fun of me.

Yesterday night I wrote a full page of my diary (yes, I have a diary) after three months of nothing. Sometimes you really need to get things out, put them on a page and read them. And put them somewhere real. Blogging is fun but ephemeral.

Mood isn’t particularly exciting this week, and as I read the pages from january to febrauary I saw some kind of continuum regarding this uneasiness I’ve been suffering of lately.

But I’m still positive it’s going to pass, sooner or later.

Take a fucking board and write “Dolce and Gabbana” on it, come on. Do it. Then let it hang from your neck and finally be the damn advertisement. Is this what you believe in? Someone who’s buying you with your own money?

My worst habit is staying inside. Sometimes I’m simply afraid of going outside, and keep procrastinating everything for whatever reason. Sometimes I just want to hide and disappear. Sometimes I only want to be alone yet I’m saddened by the thought of it.

I have things to do but I feel I can’t do anything and anything about it too. When I feel lost, the worst thing is staying inside where it can only be worse.

What is this all for?

I wonder if fulfillment in life means finally reaching one’s highest ambitions or ending up being content of secondary achievements, when nothing better comes.