last night, two in the morning, chechen dude article finally written, finished. for a number of reasons, physically and mentally exhausted. staring at the brightly lit computer screen, so tired you want to cry except that doing so would take too much energy. tired of feeling like drowning, of so many silly self-defeating tendencies...
but you've a list. reading you very much need to do. arabic vocab to study. more info you need to absorb. work you need to go to, do with some basic level of competence. and more, higher goals. dizzy with exhaustion you distract yourself by playing artistically with old pictures in photoshop. need to get batteries, you say, for the camera - thinking of more images to capture.
wake up in the morning, three hours of sleep. bleary-eyed, force yourself to read about computer network defense. no time to eat, bits of poetry drifting around your in head in the shower. character ideas, magic systems, story worlds floating about as you drag yourself outside, force tired body to walk over cobblestone sidewalks. this morning is so pretty. the weather is so nice. wishing you could paint, because these things your eyes see look so beautiful.
the ten of swords does not inspire the empress, but neither does it stifle her, really. that juxtaposition: how much of a garden can you grow with stubborn will and limited water and limited sun?
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