Painstakingly Obvious...

I have goals, goals that require effort. I know what is required to accomplish them, but I just won't get around to it. I procrastinate and repeatedly opt for vice when confronted with my priorities. I feel as though I am sabotaging myself and there is nothing I can do about it.

I still function. My work is unaffected but those milestones that I promised myself I'd accomplish by such-and-such year remain unfinished. It is getting to the point where I can't bullshit myself any longer. I am lazy, lack ambition, unfocused and a waste.

I hate that my desires of the intellect are usurped by those of the flesh. What did I expect? I'm not made out of some preternatural aether, spawned by some magical and benevolent deity. I am a heaping pile of decaying matter. One day I will be no more and it is that crisis that propels this mad chase towards hedonism. Enjoy your fire because everyday it is being extinguished.

This is all a mental conflict of course. My restraint, backup controls and contingency denial will never fail to prevent me from making these lascivious urges into revolting and damaging actions. Still, these thoughts plague the mind, and no matter how much I try to ignore their presence, they blare their trumpets and parade about the forefront of my mind. To defeat these impulses I find myself obsessing and attempting to convince myself of their immorality or innate disadvantage. Another level of temptation accumulates and urges the taste test so that the Devil will abandon his efforts when the offer is looked over and denied. No, no, no... The threshold lies before the offer not after acceptance.

So I will continue to circulate in my mind the reasons for my maintained status quo. Hedonism knows no end. Pleasure is relative. Therefore I need pain, the ordinary will seem more enticing. Maybe then I can set out to accomplish those goals, meet those milestones and become that person that I NEED to be. I must endure the night to seize the day.