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At the close of yesteryear, I was having exuberant charm to script.
I would wake up in the morning and write three to five pages. I would write
random thoughts about the babes in my life, the struggles, the victories, the
transgressions, the people who mattered and those who peeved me I felt like
kicking them in the butt. Then things happened and now all I do is wish I could
get the synergy to rejuvenate my hitherto erstwhile proclivity for penning at least a
story. Even just one for the sake of my skills and need to be up to par. Guess
this is the price one must pay for seeking an education and only working in a
reclusive aura that cares nothing about you other than the income you make
while working.
This endemic laziness is systemic. It’s not normal per se. It
began at the birth of the new year and it is now that I am starting to recover.
I have a feeling it is self-induced rather than influenced by outside forces. Normally,
I spend most of the time alone. As such, am finding it hard to concentrate for
long hours on that which I should be obliged to accomplish. Am becoming a
serial procrastinator who does not want to meet his own end of the bargain.
Look at me now, I am even struggling to make sense of words for this new-found laziness
that I don’t know emanated from where. It’s pricking and galling. I want to
disentangle but the wit and stamina to accentuate the obligation keeps shirking,
I am left in a state of incertitude. A state of paralysis caused by paranoia, perhaps. Where do I fall in this equation of unknown?
How do I find X? The famous X in algebra.
As such, I want to be who I am. Yet when I try, I wish I was free.
Free from the bondage that is self-inflicted, that consistently make me less
of the person that I wish I should have been. Again, age is also catching up
and there is the consistent challenge that I need to take myself to the next
level. I am yet to discern where that level should be.
I kind of wish I was not a sloth. Well, realistically I am not one
but I can be one literally. It’s a wish that I have all power at my sleeves to
reign over. Wish it was that easier said than done, beggars would be seasoned equestrians.
Maybe I should put caveats on my cuffs and with them, I also ensure that I have
control measures counteracting what if events. Modeled though rational and unmatched self-control through Monte Carlo
simulation, sensitivity and scenario analysis that is devoid of cognitive
errors ensuring I am not averse to regrets. Yes, that’s the only way of getting
out of this quagmire.
I think my inconsistency is causing my creativity to be banal.
Like, I am trying hard to have picturesque notions that I have experienced but
that is all in vain. Deja vu. Nothing is coming up in my mind that excites. Reminds me
of the ‘Lazy Song’ by Bruno Mars. But I want to tell myself, ‘I am not lazy’
like 100 times just to reaffirm my now philosophy that each day I wake up, I
have to see to it that I conquer something that hitherto was a challenge.
Yes, I think I should face challenges with the swagger of a lion,
even amid lows, it still studiously goes for the prey with valour. I think
laziness has everything to do with courage and mental disposition. What else
can I intimate it to. Like, I watched a clip of a miniature horse by Ozzy Man. Well,
this guy is the modern age narrator who tickles my fancy with his unbridled f
bombs that are well ‘dictioned’ in his video reviews. The guy uses “flashing
titties, destination fucked, massive spready, new position, lick the juice from
the crack, proud to be a soft cock” and a hell lotta obscenities that require
a durty durty mind to cipher. Apparently, that miniature horse was having a hard
time jumping from the stable because it kept on having misconceived notions
that it was supposed to jump to a very distant place. When it finally jumped
from the stable down to the ground, Ozzy was like “Boom shakalaka, majestic as
fuck” with a final “Ha-ha”. I also felt that moment and it was so emotional I
felt like it was giving me goosebumps.
The way that miniature horse was raising its hind legs as if to
say, “Ahoy, I have done it, I have made it” made me feel like yes, I can also
do it and write something even if it as nonsensical as it is. Now I feel like I
am slowly getting over the writer’s block and getting my groove back. I am
thinking, will this last. Maybe yes. Yes, because I am obliged to do it rather
than it being discretionary. ‘Lakini Haisulu!’, that is exactly what I tell myself
when I have absconded my civil duty to update my blog or write conjured random
thoughts that normally naturally pop up when I sit down to ruminate subconsciously while
writing, which don’t last more than thirty minutes. Also, I am not working out
anymore, neither am I sticking to dogmatic rigmaroles. It's a free world "dick heads".
Investigating deeply, I have realized that it is probably work
that has contributed to my lethargy. It can be exhausting and demanding. The result is that I sometimes have both mental exhaustion and my body becomes so weary at times, I feel like I should
have relieved myself from these drudgery and dreary responsibilities that burden me but I am
obliged to do them. Which I do religiously.
What I don’t fear is waking up in the morning. I still am a morning
person and even though I don’t enjoy the scenery of dawn, I love the fact that
I am awake most times in time to perform my duty of building the nation. Which
I will continue doing in various facets that I can achieve while I still have
the stamina to do so.
At day’s close, there is hope at the end of the tunnel. That
things will go well and change is coming. I will be a victor once again, I will
conquer my fears and with that, I will conquer the world.
Hasta La Vista Baby.
[Picture Source: Pixabay]
