"So this is the new year
And I don't feel any different"
And I really don't. We are now a week and a half into this arbitrary new metric of time, and I'm here quoting a song that I've been listening to for half my life. I'm still blogging in fits and spurts like I've been doing since the good old days of Livejournal. I'm still idealistic and temperamental and confused as ever, and in many ways infinitely more so. I have reached new heights (depths?) of laziness and procrastination, my previous physical immobility spilling over into a psychological apathy that is equal parts ennui and curiosity at just how long I can put things off before it starts to feel dangerous. Like a sick game of truth or dare I'm always playing with myself. With all this time at my disposal and a dearth of impending deadlines, that constant fear that used to nip at my heels has subsided, but who knew fear was such a necessary motivator for me? Unhealthy, sure, but vital. Without fear egging me on, that emotional manifestation of the recurring nightmare where I'm about to play Rach 3 or Prok 3 or 'tok 3 (OK that one's a stretch) onstage but have no idea how it goes, I'm just stuck somewhere between the start and finish line, languishing in slow motion while everyone races by me in real time. I know I must be waiting for something, but the answers never come.