Procrastination

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Procrastination. At first it was a problem, thinking about things that are completely aimless. It is dreadful. Eventually you are bored of being bored. But does that help you climb out of the pits of procrastination? No. You see, what happens is you go into deeper levels of procrastination. You dig deeper and deeper into the hole of nothingness. It puts you in a dreamlike state, you feel every second of the dream, but the dream has no substance, no meaning.

It starts to be an out of body experience. You cannot find an ounce of productiveness in your body, and you realize that it’s not getting any better. You want to panic and snap out of it, but you are too lazy to fight it. Things start to get fuzzy, and tasteless. Then you think about the things that used to excite you, but find that they have no appeal to you anymore. No, procrastination is now what you long for, what you need, what you crave.
You start hearing noises you haven’t ever heard before. The buzz of a computer, the whizz of lights, a constant ring even in complete silence. The noises discomfort you. They madden you. You feel there is absolutely no escape. Then you try to focus. Everything stops. You wonder if you could actually make it out alive. Something catches the corner of your eye. You see a light switch.

It makes you think of light. That makes you think of electricity. That makes you think of power lines. That makes you think of the trails that are under the power lines. That makes you think of the vehicles that drive underneath. That makes you think of the workers. That makes you think of…

There is no escape. Once procrastination takes hold, it becomes the only flavor we taste in food. It becomes the way we act, feel, and think. It robs you of all your emotions and leaves you in a zombified state. Constantly tired, you lay down on a couch. You fall asleep. But you do not wake up. You have reached the point of procrastination where it feeds on you. It devours your soul. It takes you from this world with no intent of bringing you back. You are gone.
Procrastination once again succeeds.

It happily departs, ready to consume another victim.
Last edited by DrewR on Wed Mar 23, 2011 4:07 am, edited 1 time in total.




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First off, welcome to the site! Okay, so first off, to post your work you'd probably just want to copy and paste it onto here, it's just a little easier for reviewers ;). So your actual piece is good, but I didn't really feel like you were completely connected to it until you got closer to the end of it. Also, I kind of would've liked if you gave it some story-like elements - in other words, don't just describe something but show a little change or progression somewhere. But that's just me. This was actually really good, especially when you're new to the site.
Keep writing,
StoryWeaver
Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another. ~Lemony Snicket




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Wow. Falling into procrastination is something I can relate to. This was very enjoyable to read and it wasn't confusing or anything. My favorite part is "There is no escape." This made me laugh, because it's true. I look forward to reading more of your work and keep writing!
"The only bad ideas are the ones never tried." - Puck, The Sisters Grimm




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Thanks guys! I really appreciate your feedback. I don't have any experience with writing outside of school. This is the first thing I did that was a personal piece. I was procrastinating on a school project and thought I would write something so I could cure writers block...the irony. Anyway thank you so much and I will try to just copy and paste it into there.




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Oh lord. I hate procrastination. It sucks. I find myself falling into it everyday. Half of the time with YWS (primarily the chat room, you guys are awesome). Sometimes in long projects I will tell myself. Ill do it in another 10 minutes. Ill do it in an hour. Ill do it later this afternoon. Ill do it tommorow. Ill do it next week. Pretty soon, it is the night before it is due and I have a 1000 word essay to write. Not fun. Well, I like this piece. Good job.



I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights