Vision, blurry. A liquidation of sorts. I'm yearning to come to the surface, for a tinge of air. The fictive manacles drag me down. I grow more and more paranoid writhing with all my might. Don't move, don't even think of moving. The more you move, the more distress you'll land yourself in. Just stay still, the ripples will dismiss themselves. You'll float right to the top, triumphant.
Think of it this way: ROUTINE. Bold, scary, yet we can't seem live without it. It's tantamount; we are innately a part of it. We adopt it in order for ourselves to function on a day-to-day basis. Because it is so crucial, there is near-death commitment to our routines. There are always things to do, places to be and people to see.
But there's also time for a break - from the entrapment of our own circumstances. We just need to make time. To step away from it all. We are not machines, we cannot lose sight of that.
Guaranteed, it's not easy. When someone was visibly stressed, I used to try and initiate a light-hearted response. I didn't think much of it. That was insensitive of me though. Now I understand it all too well. I remember last night was one of sheer stress, I can surely say. It built up, crept up behind me when I thought I was going at my own pace. The task at hand wasn't even worthy of a breakdown, but that didn't stop it. Then it hit me and the tension flowed up, throbbing at my temples. An incessant reminder of the anxiety bank I'd said I'd keep at bay. Breathing became a task. But I ended up being okay. I had my lifelines, I called them. I removed myself from what was attacking me. So raw, so internal and seemingly harmless. I was wrong, but I had combated it. I knew I had to lie down and take a break. So I did, and by doing so I knew I had put myself first.
Amongst all the things I worry tirelessly about, school never used to be one of them. As of now it's claimed its priority, inhibiting the life I'd like to lead. I've been decent at it. I'd like to think I'm rather good at managing my mindset. Other times I completely lose the plot. I curl up and succumb, and plead for someone to save me. By then, it has nothing to do with school - but with how I can help myself.
These days I've considered everything, from theories of universal relevance to if the next beautiful meteor shower will take us. What really does matter? On the days I cannot sleep I think of what will come next, the next moment. Every fleeting second discarded away for what, bated breath? Why do we do this to ourselves? How is it so ingrained in us to worry without end?
I think of the times I've felt the least bit worried. The times I've lost it. I can't equate what 'it' is, it just is. And I think I finally understand. When you lose it, you feel happiest. All that was in your heavy possession is now relinquished, regardless of how temporary the moment is. It's a great feeling.
Time is a catalyst. When it reaches a scarcity, we are rushed to carry out our tasks. The rationality dissipates - so you, unfortunately, can lose your feet in the process.
When time is on your side, we become more idle. We're too comfortable for words. Because you have so many spaces to fill within your time, you can explore the impetuses of innovation with more will. You can look at what you're doing, with more ease, and re-evaluate. You can make clearer decisions and adjustments. You can just breathe.
So seize those little moments, they are yours. Unlock that 4th dimension.
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