12062025

Stopped working again. The past several days have just slipped by in an indistinct blur. Why do I have so little discipline these days? Was there ever a time when I did have any at all? I can’t remember the last time in my life when I just pushed through something that was difficult or unpleasant. There are no consequences to giving up, or at least none that I meaningfully feel. I feel like I feel so little. Falling down is not so bad, it’s just the normal state of things. I don’t really want to get back up. Did there ever exist a version of me that was not like this? There are things that I have accomplished in the past which remain with me in the present that I know for certain required not just a moment of inspiration but long, long hours and a certain kind of rote repetition. Who was the me that put in those hours? Where did I lose myself? Why do I no longer feel any desire? But only the slow, long dread of shame…