So it's been a rough week and a half. Found out my job ends 2 months earlier than expected. so I'm in hyper job search mode. It's caused a bump in the road for my dissertation as I focus on the job search. On the plus side, I'm ready to go. My blood was up and I was grinning the whole day from a combination of controlled anger and adrenaline stoked focus.
I need to finally admit that my most fucked up trait is that I like the adrenaline rush of crises. In a later period I'd probably be diagnosed as ADD or ADHD. I need the all or nothing simplicity of life and death of win or lose of survive the crisis or fail. Even just wriing this brings back the wicked rush that accompanies good work for me. The only down side is I'm not with anyone right now and I always get horny as hell during times like this. Finals week, prepping for the comps for my doctorate, the week after I had my ACL torn in a soccer game and my dad die of heart attack the next day. There is some primal urge to (pro)create. Fucking is in my psyche the prime creative expression. the sweat, the sounds of strained breathing and pounding pulse.rrrrrrrrr. mmmmmm.....the warmth and wetness, the clutching and sharp pain of fingers and teeth digging in, the blinding paradox of the little death and ejaculatory renaissance. I don't know.
I can be slothlike focused on a book or article while running through arguments and theories in my head only to leap into action when its time to play/work. I miss those days when every day would be a new game, soccer, football, lacrosse. Sailing is my newish addiction and the connection to the water, the wind and the boat sate part of my craving but not all.
Tonight we said good bye to a good friend. He's moving away to marry the woman whom he loves and who is carrything their child. I will go to work tomorrow and finish a report, turn to the dissertation and refine it further.
I'm buzzed, my blood is up, I'm at a potentially terrible point in my professional life, and I'm happy. It's good to be alive.
I need to finally admit that my most fucked up trait is that I like the adrenaline rush of crises. In a later period I'd probably be diagnosed as ADD or ADHD. I need the all or nothing simplicity of life and death of win or lose of survive the crisis or fail. Even just wriing this brings back the wicked rush that accompanies good work for me. The only down side is I'm not with anyone right now and I always get horny as hell during times like this. Finals week, prepping for the comps for my doctorate, the week after I had my ACL torn in a soccer game and my dad die of heart attack the next day. There is some primal urge to (pro)create. Fucking is in my psyche the prime creative expression. the sweat, the sounds of strained breathing and pounding pulse.rrrrrrrrr. mmmmmm.....the warmth and wetness, the clutching and sharp pain of fingers and teeth digging in, the blinding paradox of the little death and ejaculatory renaissance. I don't know.
I can be slothlike focused on a book or article while running through arguments and theories in my head only to leap into action when its time to play/work. I miss those days when every day would be a new game, soccer, football, lacrosse. Sailing is my newish addiction and the connection to the water, the wind and the boat sate part of my craving but not all.
Tonight we said good bye to a good friend. He's moving away to marry the woman whom he loves and who is carrything their child. I will go to work tomorrow and finish a report, turn to the dissertation and refine it further.
I'm buzzed, my blood is up, I'm at a potentially terrible point in my professional life, and I'm happy. It's good to be alive.