It turns out procrastination is not typically a function of laziness, apathy or work ethic as it is often regarded to be. It’s a neurotic self-defense behavior that develops to protect a person’s sense of self-worth.
You see, procrastinators tend to be people who have, for whatever reason, developed to perceive an unusually strong association between their performance and their value as a person. This makes failure or criticism disproportionately painful, which leads naturally to hesitancy when it comes to the prospect of doing anything that reflects their ability — which is pretty much everything.
But in real life, you can’t avoid doing things. We have to earn a living, do our taxes, have difficult conversations sometimes. Human life requires confronting uncertainty and risk, so pressure mounts. Procrastination gives a person a temporary hit of relief from this pressure of “having to do” things, which is a self-rewarding behavior. So it continues and becomes the normal way to respond to these pressures.
Particularly prone to serious procrastination problems are children who grew up with unusually high expectations placed on them. Their older siblings may have been high achievers, leaving big shoes to fill, or their parents may have had neurotic and inhuman expectations of their own, or else they exhibited exceptional talents early on, and thereafter “average” performances were met with concern and suspicion from parents and teachers.
"(Source: pawneeparksdepartment, via s-emi-colon)
243.
My love is a machine
calculating carefully
just how much love
I have to spare you
when you crawl
under our covers
when the dawn is
nearer than dusk;
it calibrates the
amount of which I
am willing to emerge
from dreams to wearily
welcome you to the
morning, for the sun
can do that just fine.
242.
My lungs
lie listless
-twin jars
full of un-
spoken
wishes&
words-
pickled&
perfectly
preserved
for harvest
moons or
rainy days
when I have
nothing left
to sing or
say.
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(Source: thestarspangledcircusmonkey, via purepazaak)
You Hardly Swim Anymore But There’s Salt in Your Teeth
your head is
a paper weight
drowning dreams
in that bubbling
brain of yours
overflowing and
dormant like
a storm out at sea
with no one
to torment.
how to say hello
I realized that love
is more than unbridled passion
or salty lips-
love is when you kissed my freckles
& clung to me to keep me from falling deeper.
love is when we sunk into weary sighs
weighed down by bruises & stolen moments whispered
in our ears.
love is what I discovered when I realized that
you were a mirror
and every time I looked at you I saw the parts of me
I treasured most.
love is what I found in your waterfalls,
when I poured out my soul in your lap
& you took it all in stride.
love is what poured from the speakers
that May afternoon;
when I said farewell to my
stolen bed sheets & instead
dreamed of nothing but
folded paper & your skin.
you taught me that instead
of preparing myself for
an expected parting,
I needed to unfold my
screams & teach myself
how to say hello
(via s-emi-colon)
And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.
— Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five
(via fuckyeahreading)
(Source: pisumsativa, via caterinasforzas)
DO YOU EVER JUST GET UNREASONABLY EMOTIONAL OVER LORD OF THE RINGS MUSIC
(via bobafettuccine)
