What the hell

I’m feeling severely unproductive tonight. I got home, and shortly after turning on the television… I fell asleep for about 30 minutes. Solid sleep. And since then, the rest of the evening, I’ve had this deep sense of negativity follow me around. It feels like wearing a heavy coat.

And this is ridiculous. I have nothing to be sad or depressed about. My day at work was consistent and uneventful. I’ve had little to no stress. Nothing.

And here I am, feeling low for absolutely no god damn reason.

I started to work on a few lines, trying to get a poem into shape. I thought I had a really good idea/start this morning, when the opening of the poem seemed to jump into my head. But right now nothing’s coming. And the more I stare at the white, the angrier I’m getting.

Maybe angry is too strong. Frustrated.

Part of me feels that, if I just dig in, if I just dive in and search… I’ll find the poem and emerge, an hour or two later. If I just get my hands dirty, the work will take care of itself and I’ll look up to see an hour has passed and some lines have been written down.

Despite that feeling, right now I’m not able to dig in. I’m keeping myself on the peripheries, even though I know I should just dive. This other part of me is keeping me at bay, preventing me for some reason I can’t identify. Right now, I don’t know if it’s the prevention that’s frustrating me, or my compliance.

Another part of me is asking big questions. What have I accomplished today? How have I bettered myself? How have I made the world a better place for others? Who have I helped? How have I spent this time that was given me?

I got two lines written down, and that barely seems like an answer. I look back on today, and it seems like I’ve wasted it in mindless pursuits that no one will remember ten years, a year… hell, a month from now.

Alright. I’m calling it an early night. I’ve hit a point where, from past experience, nothing good lies ahead. I’m going to eat a late dinner, maybe read a bit, and go to sleep. I keep thinking about what I’ve done today, and it’s doing nothing but bring me down. What have I made today? What have I created? At best, I got this blog entry in.

But that doesn’t count for much. Looking over it, it reads like one long excuse.