1. The clock keeps on ticking, the countdown doesn't stop, and my agitation is worsening. So much so that even my sleeping schedule is royally disrupted, because my brain has kicked into defense mode - writing, or more accurately, the desire to write.
My muses are in a state of unrest, my plot bunnies run wild, and my mind refuses to conform to what logic insists I should do. Not good, not good at all.
I want to give it up. Maybe find another hobby, or another way to engage my brainworks.
...But because things rarely go according to plan, I'm quite scared to commit to the idea of forgoing it. Who knows what kind of things will accumulate in my head without a proper outflow channel?
Sometimes I see myself as a collector. I pick up things here and there, mostly reluctantly and out of the force of habit, but even when I thought it has long left my person, even when I become liberated from its iron grasp, the tiniest proof of its presence still remains, and it can go viral when least expected.
2. We fear what we do not know.
I think one of the greatest problems that I have with this line is the sheer uncertainty of what will come. I'm talking in terms of patients' sequelae or prognosis, but more of "What will come through that door and into my care?". Or, in broader example - Which posting will I be placed in? Which hospital?
We also fear what we cannot control.
3. As a side note - I mentioned elsewhere that I absolutely hate batik. Subsequently, I hate shopping for batik, especially when there's not much choice to begin with. Honestly, though, it's pathetic.
...If the government wants to make it a ruling or a dress code, for God's sake make sure there are enough supplies to meet demands. And those supplies had better be darn good.
Ugh.
Current Music: e・ter・ni・ty - UraBoku OST
