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The Last Time On This Earth
Feb. 21st, 2011 08:46 amHad one of those moments waking up this morning, blinking the sleep out of the eyes, preparing morning rituals of breakfast and tea.
I had an idea - I've always thought people who wake up from a long-standing coma had something, a soul, if you will, trapped in there, or perhaps waiting to come back in, and that it all made sense then if that's what brought them back. But then I thought, what if that isn't it at all? What if we're all just trapped in our bodies until something happens to zap us back to life, if anything? What if we're doomed to be stuck in these shells forever, till we disintegrate and are nothing?
It's good to have these thoughts, I reckon - crisis of mortality. I imagine most serious writers put themselves through it.
Weekend has been something of a scorched brain era. Barely managed to sustain myself in that time. Still marooned without bike keys, without a student card, and now I'm going back to work for the first time. Going to scene shop, an hour early, because I missed it last Friday. See what happens. I did go to bed around 3 and wake up at 8, so there's... that. Three and a half hours or so of work. That should look good.
Had a cup of hot lemon water for the first time in weeks. I feel like I can get back to good habits, if I try. If I'm self-aware. I can do this, I can, if I just let myself concentrate on the things that matter. I want to make this work, this life of mine, and I want to get back to something meaningful.
Tomorrow I start exercising. Today I might begin keeping a food diary. Little things like that to improve my life. Improving it begins now, as it could any day, but today it begins now.
Wish me luck.
I had an idea - I've always thought people who wake up from a long-standing coma had something, a soul, if you will, trapped in there, or perhaps waiting to come back in, and that it all made sense then if that's what brought them back. But then I thought, what if that isn't it at all? What if we're all just trapped in our bodies until something happens to zap us back to life, if anything? What if we're doomed to be stuck in these shells forever, till we disintegrate and are nothing?
It's good to have these thoughts, I reckon - crisis of mortality. I imagine most serious writers put themselves through it.
Weekend has been something of a scorched brain era. Barely managed to sustain myself in that time. Still marooned without bike keys, without a student card, and now I'm going back to work for the first time. Going to scene shop, an hour early, because I missed it last Friday. See what happens. I did go to bed around 3 and wake up at 8, so there's... that. Three and a half hours or so of work. That should look good.
Had a cup of hot lemon water for the first time in weeks. I feel like I can get back to good habits, if I try. If I'm self-aware. I can do this, I can, if I just let myself concentrate on the things that matter. I want to make this work, this life of mine, and I want to get back to something meaningful.
Tomorrow I start exercising. Today I might begin keeping a food diary. Little things like that to improve my life. Improving it begins now, as it could any day, but today it begins now.
Wish me luck.
