Boy meets world, boy eats world, boy shits world out again

I'm supposed to be working on my novel, what will probably amount to a bunch of pages, because I need to, want to, get back into the habit (idiom) of writing regularly again. When I was in my early years of college, spent in abject misery, I used to write almost constantly, between and during lessons, like my life depended on it. Now, well, I don't know. I don't feel like I'm writing. I haven't written a poem for ages and as for short stories, well, forget about it, I haven't written one of those since high school. The only thing I have been writing is this blog, which just feels like a collection of notes and hyperlinks, which I suppose is what it is, but I feel like I should be writing more concrete things. Things with definite form. I suppose I started this as something to compel me to write, to give my words a target and something resembling a shape. These weeks without the ability to add to spanktheplanet have left me somewhat dazed and detached from this internal flow I'd been developing and now I'm not even sure what I'm doing anymore. Not like I was when I started, because then it was all about discovery, but as if someone stole part of my mind and then put it back again after a month - I'm not really sure what to do with it anymore. I suppose I know that I'll refamiliarise myself with the process but I live so much in the moment that nothing else seems real. That was my real problem when I was depressed as fuck - I couldn't see outside of my emotional-mental state, it filled up my field of vision like a gargantuan sphere, floating just in front of my eyes. Now, well, I'm much more realistic. I have perspective. But sometimes I forget to have perspective, sometimes I just panic and indulge in free-floating anxiety. Sometimes I'm just neurotic.

I keep forgetting that my life is due to undergo this massive change - I'm going to university. Having spent the past year bumming around on the dole, doing lots of drugs, and generally enjoying myself I guess I've become lazy concerning intellectual and creative pursuits. I have this picture in my head of what I'll be like after I start my course - this wild eyed creature constantly creating, moving in a million different directions, like a psychedelic octopus, a burning super-nova behind the eyes. Helen thinks I'll become hyper-focused and more and more eccentric the further into the course I go, which is fine by me. I've become far to complaisant in my eyes, playing society's little games for fun and profit, it's starting to effect my reality far too much for my liking. Time to cast of the shackles of conformity again, get back to my roots, Adam Cheshire - Super Freak, back on track and bouncing around inside the collective-corpse of the world like a magic bullet.