go and go and go and go

if i stop i’ll disintegrate. if i stop i’ll die. if i stop i will not get out of bed again and i’ll be reduced to a quivering mass of semi-gelatinous goo and get nothing done.

and so i am pushing along at a furious pace and accepting too much work and seeing friends as often as they ask and sleeping little and trying to push through it all. i am barely sitting down and going and going and going and going and cramming things into my full, full day and not leaving room for lounging which must be a first in my life but it’s not the fire of before which was fueled by passion and energy; this one is fueled by fear. i am afraid that if i stop for a second i’ll end up catatonic, a vegetable, in bed. because i am in a hole and if i kick my legs hard enough i’ll fly. or so i think.

even moments like this, right now, are fueled by a frantic waiting, watching the clock because if i stop to think i’ll fall. i am so tired but i cannot sleep, not yet. i am taking on too many things at once and juggling them all in my head somehow and the more i do the more i have to do because i cannot slow the pace or i will crumble.

are you getting sick of me yet? i sure as hell am.