argh...panic panic panic.chaos chaos chaos. stress stress stress. confusion confusion confusion.
to much to do. tooo tooo tooooooo much.
(do i hear u say. now really?)
well. predicatable is the usual situation: too much to do. left it too late.
so it's rather more like: too late. not too much. since: if it's not 'too late', there will be no 'too much'. therefore, 'too much' is the effect of the cause 'too late'. so, in theory, there should be no 'too much' if there is no 'too late' in the first place.
confusing enough? this is what happens when you wake up on a sunday morning before an art history exam, realising other than the exam to sort out, you have millions of other things to sort out, like what you do before you decide to disappear from the place you live for a while.
---> i hope you've figured it out by now that the above basically says:
"I hate packing"
(especially when I have to study too)
now, that would bring us to: which one do i really hate? that i have to pack when i need to study? that i have to study when i need to pack? that i hate studying to begin with, so having to ALSO have to pack, makes me hate packing too? or that i hate packing to begin with, so having to ALSO have to study, makes me hate studying too? anyhow, packing and studying shouldn't be put in the same sentence...
altogether another equation that i dont understand.
except that i must admit, making up these equations is a response mechanism when you add me to a stressful situation: i procrastinate and let my mind take me places: thus the equations. you might say it's the fear really, of what the equation involves. urrgh. it simply annoys me, and i end up not very sweet-tempered at all. uuurrrgh.
just woke up by a text from cat. now that's weird. i must have been awake already. my cellfone is so quiet i never realise i'v got mail. weird dream again. an oboe player decided to turn operatic. the melody still rings in my ears long after. that's the weird bit: there's actually a completely vivid, 'tangible' theme going on, which i can only retrace back to nothing but the dream, meaning i have not heard it anywhere else. does that mean i compose when i sleep? whoa. ooops, looks like cat's at church. and i'm not. "i'm at church! being a good girl! what about you?!" so. she's a good girl. therefore i'm the bad. new equation coming up?
. . . . . . . . . .
*thud*
E.N.O.U.G.H.
of this procrastination! just realised: this blog is serious distraction. and i seem to have just added it to the list of tools i already have for my art of procrastination. (that ranged from texting, emailing, leaving messages on website guestbooks, eating starbursts, texting about shapes of starbursts, cutting out pictures from advertisements, gluing those pictures onto my ipod, looking up words i dont understand and then copying out the definitions from the dictionary, re-arrange my cd collection, my books collection, arranging the order of magazines i kept-in order of height, read about lyric interpretations of U2 songs....)
mus. mus. must. st.st.stop.
*stopped*
(for now)
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wow. this is a very wiffly waffly post!
