I fritter away my time worrying about why I can't motivate to take care of little things. If I were an alien scientist observing how this organism I refer to as my self behaves compared to other organisms, I would note that this self organism lays around frequently staring at blank walls or that squalid television set (is this the proper time to reveal I'm not doing so well with the TV ban?). When hooked up to a brain scanning machine, the brain activity produces meatball shapes in neon colors, indicating mismatched synopsis, or, in layman's terms, a lack of a serious hobby or interest.I would perform simple experiments on my organism self. One would involve a broom, a toothbrush, a drum, and a slightly dirty floor. I would observe how my organism self is drawn to the drum, but because the floor is dirty, refuses to sit down and play the drum. My organism self would stare at the wall just to the left of the broom, allowing the broom's sillouhette to burn its image into my organism self's periferal vision. My organism self would develop a resentment not only to the broom, but also to the floor and the drum. My organism self would brush its teeth to pass the time.
Studies would eventually be conducted to see how my organism self would react to stimulants like book readings, concerts, and political rallies. These studies would be performed only after the organism self had proven its ability to align similar thoughts, problems, and activities. The studies could span years, and might be interrupted by other daily happenings such as marriage, geographical relocation, and family members (these interruptions may also induce a regression to the original state). Overall, the studies would prove to be inconclusive, and the organism self would be declared a dull member of society who only slightly contributes.
But I'm not an alien scientist. And this exercise was an effort to jolt myself back into existence.
