Something is Wrong

Very wrong and my vise is slipping because of it. This wrong goes beyond the panic of unfinished errands.
I've started to remember the reverse writing from a while back. The image of my hand moving across the page. The feel of something, some part that hasn't come out before and just how important that part was. I was panicked and excited and stuffed it back down immediately - and it this moment, this breach that has me thinking about what edge I need to walk... what functions I can't have and still achieve something-- no not something: the thing. Start being fucking honest with myself. The thing I could achieve.
It's a brink, a teeter. Sometimes I'm headed with full kinetic force towards the thing. But other times the mere thought of grander aspiration feels shameful. It's the logistics, the lack of drive, thats what makes it so far away. It's what makes me feel foolish for believing.
If I'm ever going to make it, I'd better have a long life.

Fantasy

It's what I really miss-- held away from the outside, getting lost in a fictional world is the closest i get. They aren't even mine anymore. I'm drawing other people's words other people desires hoping to spark something that never seems to get any close. It's empty, it's habit.
I miss wanting something
This is what I feared the other side of a goal. The next stage. It doesn't drive me. Fantasy.(don't forget) How do I work that into my new life.(may be that's it. this is essentially a new life)

Puzzles Pieces Made to Fit... Or

Revisionist History.

When I was a kid I slipped through the cracks. I was quiet and smart. I adapted, I compensated as the learning went on. After it was 'caught' and 'fixed', a lot of what I knew changed and it was a struggle to adapt back. And now i have to do it all again. I have to go back and find motivation and desire again. It's fear stopping me. I can't understand how i could have ever had the level of passion I once did. How could I ever feel with that instensecity if it's controlled? How could I ever risk loosing control?-- This isn't fire, this is explosives. Things won't slowly char before before it could be smothered, they'll be torn apart violently without time to salvage or dampen.
But i cause more damage when I go back and forth.

Semantics

There's a paradox, (is that the right word?) between the unhealthy state, the imbalanced that I railed against, and the well one... Without desire or motivation, without the crazybeing constantly at my door step. I am "functional". But without those states without the chaos to rail against, I don't know what to function for.

The Crux

They've done studies, it's been proven you can't live without desire. I have none left-- it's been drained. I have a vague memory of once having it. The feel of it making empty acts more important. Made me feel.. something. The escapes were enough, were calling me, were so grand.
I hope it comes back. But it's an empty hope-- one i don't believe in.

How to maintain

How many things I am convinced i won't be able to... stand. The dread is worst than the act. I don't know how long I'll be able to maintain the limited existence I'm in now.

Do, Complete, Stand

While my day passes with so little being done, I'm convinced I can't keep a job. Even if I started looking, (which will be a feat in and of its self) whatever kind of job I'll finally get will be beyond my ability.

In and Of

Life after college. There's more time but so far everyday has been the same: wake up, waist time, at 3pm: be surprised, let time pass, it's dark, wait to sleep. repeat.