RANDOM

Sometimes I feel like I should be doing something. I feel like I should be working, being productive. Relaxing like this just seems so ineffective. There should be some way to better myself further. Rest is necessary, yes, but it feels wrong.

There was a time when I didn't think like this. There was a time when work was something so very far away, something only picked up with a half serious attitude and finished on whim. Near the end, it became a more pressing thing. It pestered and nagged. However, it was still something that one could do reluctantly.

I don't know when I became like this. Work is suddenly standing right next to me, lurking behind me, breathing down my neck, staring me in the eye. He whispers to me sweetly, a possesive lover.

And I feel like I can't resist his seduction. Try as I might, I feel lured to him. Like a guilty lover having an affair, I feel as if I should be somewhere else. And work knows. He knows and he is ever present, patiently awaiting my return. He will welcome me with open arms and chastise me and accept me and keep me and devour my soul.