Procrastinator's Obituary Reads...
Posted: December 30th, 2008, 1:08 pm
What is it about reading obituaries, or even simply looking at photos of recently deceased, that makes one feel so hopeless?
Other than a trip down to the shops earlier for milk, I haven't left the flat in 3 days. On Sunday I woke at 12.30 and had a beer while I played World at War. I then portioned out the rest of the day between eating, surfing the net, shitting and drinking whisky, wine and beer. Monday was much of the same. Today I woke at 1.15pm and, since it was "probably too late to go for a walk around the shops" (deciding whether to buy a bread maker, room heater, new processor, waterproof coat with Christmas money) I decided I'd do some housework... make me feel that I hadn't wasted another day. Wasting a day! What does that mean anyway?
It's -2ºC outside. The old slate roofs that enclose the common green are twinkling white in the fading light. The church steeple peering over the rooftops seems to shiver in the clear, sharp air. Going out in that weather without any real reason would just be crazy. So, I have the weather to justify my reclusive way of spending this last week of the year.
I do nothing except procrastinate. Like the cold weather being my excuse to stay indoors, so my name in an obituary list will be my excuse for not getting round to actually doing anything... I'm lazy, scared and anxious. If I felt comfortable doing nothing it would be fine, but I don't. I feel that I'm wasting every day, hour, minute.
Suddenly darkness falls and the street lights flicker on. Their amber glow, once comforting to me, now seems cold and lonely. Where once I saw lovers kissing under the warm orange light, now I see an uninhabited space where all possible dangers lie.
What would my obituary say? I was most definitely born and experienced existence for a number of years, kissed a few girls, learned to drive, played guitar, wrote some suspect poetry, met a few girls who were willing to sleep with me, climbed a few mountains, donated to charities, carried an organ donor card, took several really pretty photographs...
and that ellipsis up there? I find that a worrying mark. What has been omitted? Can an ellipsis denote the omission of nothing? the omission of a void of further memories and achievements? Will my obituary read quite simply, "He was born in 1979...died, (date)."
Instead of whinging about this I should be acting... I know this but acting would get in the way of all this procrastination.
Other than a trip down to the shops earlier for milk, I haven't left the flat in 3 days. On Sunday I woke at 12.30 and had a beer while I played World at War. I then portioned out the rest of the day between eating, surfing the net, shitting and drinking whisky, wine and beer. Monday was much of the same. Today I woke at 1.15pm and, since it was "probably too late to go for a walk around the shops" (deciding whether to buy a bread maker, room heater, new processor, waterproof coat with Christmas money) I decided I'd do some housework... make me feel that I hadn't wasted another day. Wasting a day! What does that mean anyway?
It's -2ºC outside. The old slate roofs that enclose the common green are twinkling white in the fading light. The church steeple peering over the rooftops seems to shiver in the clear, sharp air. Going out in that weather without any real reason would just be crazy. So, I have the weather to justify my reclusive way of spending this last week of the year.
I do nothing except procrastinate. Like the cold weather being my excuse to stay indoors, so my name in an obituary list will be my excuse for not getting round to actually doing anything... I'm lazy, scared and anxious. If I felt comfortable doing nothing it would be fine, but I don't. I feel that I'm wasting every day, hour, minute.
Suddenly darkness falls and the street lights flicker on. Their amber glow, once comforting to me, now seems cold and lonely. Where once I saw lovers kissing under the warm orange light, now I see an uninhabited space where all possible dangers lie.
What would my obituary say? I was most definitely born and experienced existence for a number of years, kissed a few girls, learned to drive, played guitar, wrote some suspect poetry, met a few girls who were willing to sleep with me, climbed a few mountains, donated to charities, carried an organ donor card, took several really pretty photographs...
and that ellipsis up there? I find that a worrying mark. What has been omitted? Can an ellipsis denote the omission of nothing? the omission of a void of further memories and achievements? Will my obituary read quite simply, "He was born in 1979...died, (date)."
Instead of whinging about this I should be acting... I know this but acting would get in the way of all this procrastination.
