For the anxious, procrastination is a product of anxiety. Yet, it is the fuel that fires anxiety. A fire that dances wildly inside the head, ravaging the synapses of every existing neurone. So much chaos, the rational voice that says: you are worthy and there’s time to do something, anything, gets lost within it. Consumed by the roaring flame. And the vessel that is the body, is the worst. It’s malfunctioning, unable to act or contain the inner chaos. It’s lazy, except, it’s not. It’s paralysed. Then suddenly the hands that dangle at each side, are filled with energy. A soaring urge to pull at the hair, maybe it will put out the fire. Except, it will not. So the fingers curl back, and the body remains as it was; While the storm of fire keeps raging inside, until it tires out by itself. In a few hours, days, weeks, years…but it doesn’t matter, because its return is inevitable. So, my mind and body remain paralysed and motionless, until redeemed through Salah and I can’t remember what sort of event.
“And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted-nevermore!”
~The Raven, Edgar Allen Poe~