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My Manic

Video by the extremely talented and somewhat dark Laura Marling.

Her videos, her music speak to me in ways that are dangerous, beckoning me to be that beautifully, tragically human entity I was once addicted to being… a voice in the back of my head telling me how wonderful it might be to be depressed, to feel strongly about something or nothing… to exist.

Anger and frustration, silliness and humor, half-hearted at best, are time-efficient jaunts through temporary, fleeting states of being and self-awareness – defenses against the depression of my environment, all of those who seek to bring me down with them… towards time spent, time lost, on whimsical sentience or into the calling comfort of futility.

Remaining driven, powered, maintained through a necessary aversion to distractions of living – this moment of contemplation, all I have, all I am, perhaps all I will ever have been, as the clock ticks on in increments of dollars, deadlines, and fleeting opportunity – marked by an aging shell and the changing world.

Do I push myself so, to someday have time for being alive, or as a measure against it?

I am as repelled by this video, as I am drawn to its beauty.

… back to work.