segunda-feira, 29 de dezembro de 2008

Rubbish: the theory


Here I am, once more or once less, depends on how you play it. Going behind and under and down the motions rather than with them which would be easier, obviously.

I feel tired and wasted, wasted by this never ending Christmas rubbishy period of complacency and fake tragedy and postponement and bs. Just Christmas, once again. Don't take me wrong: it's not that I don't like it; I spend the whole time tiring myself trying to come to terms with it, messing up my digestion and disconcerting my system attempting to acknowledge what is it that it's really about. I don't know whether I'm coming or going, my flesh feels like putty, my eyes see aberrational objects floating in the air, my sleep is a flash of stuff I don't want to know about, and people talk weird and jam your email and mobile with bizarre and gagging messages that I skip as quickly as I receive them. It's tedious and confusing.

I am not exaggerating. I have to blame it on Christmas; how I wake up in the morning in stupor, trembling, disoriented, getting calls from family members, receiving practical presents without having the time nor the energy to give favours in return. All for a big hoo-ha of stuff that dispels in January when the shit hits the fan and everyone is broke and the happy season flustered when their brains don't remember those famous words at the brink of New Year. What were they?

Call me cynical, I just call myself exhausted. Want to find out what it is that I should be wishing from January onwards, not quite knowing what to expect from myself anyways at any season, forget about January, trying to get rid of the Christmas spirit of chaos. It's so stressful (for me).

My body, as I said, is not taking all this very well. My head is like jelly (did I say it?), My eyes are sore with despondency and my sinuses just don't catch a drift, my hound instinct has been cut off, paralised, when I get out in the streets everything has changed and moved out of place and I am out of sync, not knowing what to expect of the day. I hate having to make an effort, it's distracting.

Not knowing where to hide I choose my bed, but the sheets are scratchy and my pillow feels rock solid, my feet icy cold all night long. So, forget it. Coaching, a great sport, but too much noise and activity outside.

I do have plans for the New Year, yes, I mean what about today's plans, are they good enough? I hope so.

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