All entries for Wednesday 27 July 2005
July 27, 2005
Existing in a strange kind of limbo state right now. It feels like this summer will last forever, one languid day slipping slowly into the next.
I spend my weekdays desperately trying to muster enough concentration to extort the much-needed 15,000 words that will comprise my dissertation from a brain that seems disinclined to apply itself to anything much beyond musings about cheerios and trundlez. Occasionally I stare at the wall and cry. Then I feel guilty about doing and thinking nothing and cry some more.
I spend my weekends desperately trying to forget the fact that I have spent the best part of a week staring at a wall crying and being unproductive. And, for the most part, succeed.
But it's all so indeterminate – it feels transient, fleeting, not entirely real. I might float away and cease to exist and i'm not sure anyone would notice. In reality I'm sure they would and I don't mean that as an insult to anyone around me – it's more my feelings of insignificance and perceived uselessness in relation to the world.
If I cry it all starts to take on some kind of tangible shape around me, but then it all becomes so pathetic, embarrassing, monstrous even, 'as if some giant cucumber had spread itself over all the roses and carnations in the garden and choked them to death.' Virginia had the right idea with her 'vision of loneliness and riot' here.
Of course the summer and indeed this whole amorphous year will come to an end eventually, and I will probably feel sad to let it go, not to mention scared about moving to London and starting my new job.
But for now it just trundles on and I keep existing, selfishly.
*They must. Why else would I need to eat a whole packet every day? They're not even that nice.