For the past few weeks, I have been working upwards of 50 hours altogether on three different projects, two of which you all will know about soon. If I am being honest, I am not a ‘hard worker,’ which is to say that I don’t possess an innate work ethic that allows me to do whatever, for however long, simply because someone said it ‘needed to be done.’ However, I am more than capable of working all day and all night on projects that I am fascinated by: at that point, it’s rather painful to not work on these things, and anything which would interrupt my time with them begins to lay heavily on my nerves, until I must shake them off for good. Naturally, this still comes with its own kind of exhaustion: it’s not the defeated kind of exhaustion, as in that of a manual laborer’s broken body, where he feels his years of toil presenting itself in acute wear and tear from his hip to his shoulder; yet there is still, for me at least, an undeniable fatigue that gathers in the burning of eyes which have been open too long, a stomach aching from skipping meals so as to not disrupt my flow, a headache due to many hours on end of putting my brain to its (almost) full capacity; it is in these moments, in the waning hours of a long night where you try to find something to latch onto, some idea or vision to hitch a ride on shows itself if you are blessed; it is as if the idea itself, or even just a way of thinking, gives you some energy that isn’t sourced from a part of your body.
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