This, final poem I write
For a month when the lights
Been a sun all but dark
On new journeys embark

Yes my future seems bright
While I write what I write
But only truest of hearts
Ever go to the park

I've been riding in cars
Like I go on safaris
More often than Jar Jar
And Binks linked my Atari

I'm driving a golf
But I'll never go par deep
I aim for the stars
If you see one out far me

That's me! A star.

Another week passed by fast. I want to write a rhyme get me back on my track(s). Seven eight nines and the count is a lapse. My mount is my casket my crown is my cast. My cast's too small - need a few new workers, so I can go berzerk with all that I want to serve yer cranium, insane idioms - a rain of refrains and a map pack for all those games that I've slain. But no pain no gain and my main pain's timeless, less time more pain, lest I find bliss. A state of mind where I leave all behind and forget about all time and if you look straight into my iris - you'll see that I eye bliss even with wide eyes under my lids. I go the full mileage. Yeah.

So the week started with a cold still brewing. Fortunately I only had one day of 'work' until I'd reached the monthly quota; no need to call in sick (I'm paid hourly so I wouldn't get paid if I stayed home), and the rest of the week's been a breeze... though busy all the same. I've reformed the comment system a bit on this site, added avatars and some nifty CSS styles, and somehow managed to hide the comment form from all posts without existing comments, but... I'll get that fixed. Soon. So you can all start writing again. Both of you. :P

I've paid my time with studies, a walk with a buddy, plenty of NG, 9 posted reviews (of movies I watched last week and the one before that... mostly) and this and this and this and this and that's it. Also finally got around to posting those favorite music videos of 2013. Last week's right there.

A title subtly referencing that Peak Oil that never came. Why did it never come? Will it ever come? Will we ever change? What can I do about it? And casting those irrelevant questions aside, onto the topic of procrastination and my feature presentation for the day: I just can't seem to get started on my work! I have two longer reviews to write today (usually it's three) and I have yet to truly start on either of them, even though the day is now rapidly nearing an end. I made my first attempt this morning, did other things, made another valiant attempt right after lunch. Felt tired. Retired. Tried again a few times before dinner, took a break for dinner, started right after... needed something revitalizing so I took a (long) shower. Now it's 7:51 and I've still to make it through my first analysis.

It shouldn't take an entire day of motivating to get something started.

In fact, the longer the wait, the less motivated I feel, and yet I do get started just when there is barely time enough for it. Do old habits die hard? Is this a subconscious challenge as to allow an extreme rate of efficiency during final hours? Do I do it for the thrill? Does it take less time, or is the time taken the same regardless of when I start and how much pressure there is on completion? As with all previous weekends (except the last when I - due to unforeseen and uncontrollable circumstances - actually missed my deadline) I'll probably get to it soon, hand things in somewhere around 11:59 and go to to sleep both content that I managed and somehow disappointed that I didn't get to it earlier. Maybe if I start now, and get this done a couple of hours before midnight, then I can slowly decrease my starting time by a couple of hours each week until finally, I get to work first thing in the morning. Maybe.

I should probably get started.

I popped a hip, I think
Hiphop - my god - that's it!
Idea for new lyrics
Subtle satiric and honest

Mystic, poppin spmethomnnit?
Yes I'll fulfill my promise
You've heard the new absurd now
Popping OG like a flocka birds

I know I knew the word
Yessir

For too long I thought I could change myself
Without any hope that I would
For too long I thought I could make some sense
Of things only you understood

For too long I tried to see right and wrong
Till I realized that white and black
Were as square as the lines in all my songs
As where we all hide in the the back

Just a minute now
I mean a second it will
Be over that soon