WARNING! This is one of those dreary posts that I oft feel obligated to write. So, if that's not your thing read no further.
Slog--To make (one's way) with a slow heavy pace against resistance.
O, to slog my days away. Through solemn December and blooming May. Who am I slogging against you ask. Well, I shall tell you, my friend. I slog against time. Against stupidity. Against MYSELF! Yes, at every turn and I am thwarted by none other than the own denizens of my mind. They revolt constantly and never agree with my decisions. Therefore I slog.
My entire life seems to be a giant quagmire right now. I have to push through all of this thick foggy stuff in order to interact with other people and sometimes it's just not worth it. Unfortunately it's finally gotten to where I have to push through to talk to myself. I know! No wonder I never make any sense. My mind spends so much time in inactivity that it's started to stagnate. Which means that when I do need to pull something out of it it's usually covered in pond muck and barely discernible.
Of course, the thick foggy stuff may just mean I need glasses.
1 comments:
You know what's good for that?
Nyquil. It's the fast ticket to La-La-Land. Nothing is quite as relaxing as a trip to La-La-Land.
Or, you know, blogging helps too. It can be cathartic.
I'm sorry you've been forced to slog. Everyday life kind of dragging you down? I hope things have gotten better since you posted this!
Good luck, and best wishes.
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