It's always when I have things to do. It’s always when the fate of the world hangs in the balance. It's only then that HE decides to rear his diabolical head.
The path to world renowned writer is laden with the carcasses of hours killed. For a guy that is part superhero, I kill too often. Slitting time at the jugular and watching the minutes bleed out. All because of his influence. Batman has The Joker, Superman has Lex Luther; and I have him. He that for so long has made my efforts to save the world painstakingly difficult. HE is not a person or an actual living being per say. HE is Procrastination. An evil that takes on numerous forms! A shape shifter if you may! From slug-fests for time to internal conflict for my own mind!-I have battled this evil fiend many a time.
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The path to world renowned writer is laden with the carcasses of hours killed. For a guy that is part superhero, I kill too often. Slitting time at the jugular and watching the minutes bleed out. All because of his influence. Batman has The Joker, Superman has Lex Luther; and I have him. He that for so long has made my efforts to save the world painstakingly difficult. HE is not a person or an actual living being per say. HE is Procrastination. An evil that takes on numerous forms! A shape shifter if you may! From slug-fests for time to internal conflict for my own mind!-I have battled this evil fiend many a time.
I sit on the couch in my pyjamas for hours on end, watching reruns of shows I do not even like anymore. Mind numbing microwaves from the idiot box render me incapacitated. Before I realise it, I have inadvertently traveled through time! Sent to an era that is not my own! Thrust through to the future, like Samurai Jack! Well, I have only lost about four hours watching television, but they are four precious hours into the future nonetheless! I know this could only be the work of that vile villain! By my calculations, four hours into the future mean that I am in the lunch Time period. The ligaments in my hands crackle as I clench them into fists and raise them to the ceiling. I bellow out a cry of protest because I realise, as much as I love it; lunch is just another way to kill time. Curse you procrastination.
After I devour a hefty meal, I decide to accept the fact that I cannot not return to my own time; I decide to embrace this hereafter and defeat Procrastination FROM this future. I make my way to the lair. There is work to be done. I sit down at the desk to get to work on the computer, trying to think about which writing needs to be tended to first. I read an ancient scroll long ago (It was more of a self-help book than an ancient scroll) that to defeat the malignant illness that is Procrastination, I must learn to Prioritise, Organise, and Focus! But God knows those books only motivate us for so long. I know people that would melt whole polar ice caps if they set their self-help book collection on fire. And yet with a plethora of books like that, their lives seem to be no better than the average Joe's. Regardless-'Organise, Prioritise; FOCUS!'. Some mood music would be nice though. A double click later, I am in the ‘Music’ folder. As I scroll through this mostly illegal music collection, I make the observation that it is not properly organised. Too many ‘loose songs’ or music that should be in a different artist’s folder. This must be sorted quickly! A few right clicks,cuts copies and pastes later; I realise that I have once again fallen to the whims of that dastardly villain! I am wasting my efforts on yet another trivial task. Curse you Procrastination.
A few sentences into my new document and my eyelids feel like weights. Have I been poisoned? YES! I must have been poisoned! A deadly sleeping potion, doused in my gravy! An attempt on my life! Though deep down inside I know there is no poison; there is no potion, it’s just that heavy Nsima I had for lunch- Always puts me to sleep. There is no one out to get me. But I have to blame someone. I have to blame something. Procrastination, I curse thy name. A power nap is in order. As I yawn, I wonder if Batman takes power naps too...
I’m having another one of those weird dreams, but as weird as my dreams get, the soundtrack to this one is definitely out of context. It’s Timbaland and Magoo’s ‘We At It Again’- my ringtone. The sound from my phone pierces through my slumber and thrusts me back to reality. With my body still limp, I stretch a heavy arm out and feel for my phone. It's Jarell. Police Commissioner Gordon throws up the Bat Signal- Jarell dials my number. He tells me there are some Damsels in distress that need to be saved, and some toxic alcohol that needs to be disposed of before the some poor unsuspecting Joes without the livers for it consume it. I tell him I have work to be done, and that he could probably take on the alcohol and Damsels himself. But Jarell has ways of convincing me to diverge from my plans. He persuades me into coming over and soon we are saving the world from the threat of mutant zombies via Playstation 3. Who says you have to leave the comfort of your living room to save the world? Benny Blow-Not your average superhero.
As blackness emulsifies the blue sky, evening sets in and the sun retires westward.
“Dude, I’m going home. You need to get out of the house more often. I’ll see you soon” says Jarell.
After Jarell leaves, I wonder if he may have been sent to stop me. I wonder if he was under the control of my arch enemy like some puppet with a penchant for halting progress. No, Jarell would not be susceptible to mind control. Perhaps that was not him at all. Perhaps that was actually my foe, taken on the form of my friend! YES! A rabid time wasting wolf, here in sheep’s clothing! Perhaps that’s it! Perhaps it is just my imagination. I wonder. As I stroke my beard in deep thought, the TV remote stares at me. I wonder... I wonder what’s on television tonight...
After I devour a hefty meal, I decide to accept the fact that I cannot not return to my own time; I decide to embrace this hereafter and defeat Procrastination FROM this future. I make my way to the lair. There is work to be done. I sit down at the desk to get to work on the computer, trying to think about which writing needs to be tended to first. I read an ancient scroll long ago (It was more of a self-help book than an ancient scroll) that to defeat the malignant illness that is Procrastination, I must learn to Prioritise, Organise, and Focus! But God knows those books only motivate us for so long. I know people that would melt whole polar ice caps if they set their self-help book collection on fire. And yet with a plethora of books like that, their lives seem to be no better than the average Joe's. Regardless-'Organise, Prioritise; FOCUS!'. Some mood music would be nice though. A double click later, I am in the ‘Music’ folder. As I scroll through this mostly illegal music collection, I make the observation that it is not properly organised. Too many ‘loose songs’ or music that should be in a different artist’s folder. This must be sorted quickly! A few right clicks,cuts copies and pastes later; I realise that I have once again fallen to the whims of that dastardly villain! I am wasting my efforts on yet another trivial task. Curse you Procrastination.
A few sentences into my new document and my eyelids feel like weights. Have I been poisoned? YES! I must have been poisoned! A deadly sleeping potion, doused in my gravy! An attempt on my life! Though deep down inside I know there is no poison; there is no potion, it’s just that heavy Nsima I had for lunch- Always puts me to sleep. There is no one out to get me. But I have to blame someone. I have to blame something. Procrastination, I curse thy name. A power nap is in order. As I yawn, I wonder if Batman takes power naps too...
I’m having another one of those weird dreams, but as weird as my dreams get, the soundtrack to this one is definitely out of context. It’s Timbaland and Magoo’s ‘We At It Again’- my ringtone. The sound from my phone pierces through my slumber and thrusts me back to reality. With my body still limp, I stretch a heavy arm out and feel for my phone. It's Jarell. Police Commissioner Gordon throws up the Bat Signal- Jarell dials my number. He tells me there are some Damsels in distress that need to be saved, and some toxic alcohol that needs to be disposed of before the some poor unsuspecting Joes without the livers for it consume it. I tell him I have work to be done, and that he could probably take on the alcohol and Damsels himself. But Jarell has ways of convincing me to diverge from my plans. He persuades me into coming over and soon we are saving the world from the threat of mutant zombies via Playstation 3. Who says you have to leave the comfort of your living room to save the world? Benny Blow-Not your average superhero.
As blackness emulsifies the blue sky, evening sets in and the sun retires westward.
“Dude, I’m going home. You need to get out of the house more often. I’ll see you soon” says Jarell.
After Jarell leaves, I wonder if he may have been sent to stop me. I wonder if he was under the control of my arch enemy like some puppet with a penchant for halting progress. No, Jarell would not be susceptible to mind control. Perhaps that was not him at all. Perhaps that was actually my foe, taken on the form of my friend! YES! A rabid time wasting wolf, here in sheep’s clothing! Perhaps that’s it! Perhaps it is just my imagination. I wonder. As I stroke my beard in deep thought, the TV remote stares at me. I wonder... I wonder what’s on television tonight...
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| I drew this myself. My rendition of Procrastination. What do you think? |
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