There are do’s and don’t about this just like in everything else, my approach is a bit like the higher levels of Mr Do’s Castle. Remember that game? Higher levels look exactly the same as the one before only everything is faster. In the end, you know where things are but the speed, it makes any plan impossible. It’s only about jumping into the fray, close your eyes and hope for the best. Since this has nothing to do with sex I skipped the ”wagging the joystick”-reference, it would only confuse you into thinking it is about naked bodies or self-love. This is about something far worse. It’s about doing other—stuff. With the brain.
This is my curse, the way I work means I stress and fidget and blow past deadlines. I can handle the stress, it doesn’t affect me as such. All it does is make me do odd things as I write — I wave with my hands and tries to solve imaginary Rubik’s cubes in the air. It’s the deadline thing that makes me feel bad, really bad. I don’t mean too do it, but as soon it swivels past my head I ache and I feel sick. The head wants to fold inwards in a possible attempt to realize its dream of being a meat origami horse. The eyes want to pull the eyelids over their heads and sleep. I hate this state, and yet I unwittingly walks into that dark infested alley of a nightmare time after time. There are rats there too, and I’m sure they want to club me to death and make me into a soup.
Not this time though, damn if I’m going to let it happen now. I’ve started translating, and I will not forget to continue. I hope I can discover and get it into my thick but glorious skull that this works and gives less problems. The thing is what they say about old habits and folded paper. I work the same what when people ask me to do other things as well, unless they give me a damn interesting task.
Perhaps I got some motivational disorder that prevents me to start it up. I have a fanzine I want to finish any year now. But I’d rather see it done in months or weeks. Lots of stuff that lies there; ideas never realized, texts never reaching their destination. This can’t go on. Damnit, I got an old convention report in verse to finish and t-shirts to design. Let’s do this.
