This is a response to the dailypost Writing Challenge.
I would imagine procrastination to be a bit like being on drugs; your mind consciously tells you to stay away, but your limbs just fail to cooperate. The day draws to a close, then you realise how much time you’ve wasted and douse yourself with predictable remorse. You resolve to kick the habit, but alas, some things just die hard (look at Bruce Willis!). For me, this empty indulgence came in the form of social media. The little blue logo on my mobile screen became my go-to for all occasions. It prodded me awake in the morning, kept me occupied in awkward social settings, allowed me to retreat into my introversion, kept me awake when my eyelids fluttered threateningly… Whatever the occasion, my thumb would instantly conjure up the familiar news feed. It was my daily stupor.
For my Lenten resolution, I decided that it was high time I got rid of my pointless excursions. Spending hours of each day finding out what celebrities were up to and knowing what everyone did was highly dissatisfying. There were so many other things I could have been doing, and that I have been longing to do. Where was the girl who learnt to play the guitar on her own? Back then, she could even code HTML and write fiction commendably.
As expected, the first few days of my fast were not the most pleasant experience. I surprised myself to discover how dependent I was upon social media. My jittery hands would naturally reach out for my mobile phone or iPad. I would sit staring into space, feeling the void of my addiction. The absence grew more pronounced when I realised that I have been thinking in terms of status updates and 140-character sentences. In my mind, all my experiences were constricted into truncated statuses, engineered to seek the maximum level of attention of my followers. Even with this line of consciousness, I know that the worst is not over; there is every possibility that I might just lapse into old ways and be consumed by even stronger waves of procrastination.
And that’s how this started. In shedding the excesses of my habits, I wanted an outlet to weave words meaningfully. I want my words to undulate in sync with my thoughts and emotions. I want to carefully unpack my life’s journey and not document it in a series of rants. So, I write because I miss the old me. This is my rejuvenated writing journey.