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CapnHollis

Sir · Milky Way

"Dizzy," my head is spinning like a deranged carnival wheel greased with ether and bad decisions, sang Tommy Roe (sort of)—and it's ricocheting off the walls of my skull right now, a frantic echo in this funhouse of fleeting sanity. As I've barked to anyone fool enough to listen, I fired up this blog to caulk the yawning chasm in my psyche, that black-hole void gnawing at the edges where the electric jolt of accomplishment used to surge like a junkie's vein-popping high from a nine-to-five grind. Yesterday, while wrestling the greasy innards of the site like a mechanic elbow-deep in a demon-possessed engine, I staggered back, gobsmacked to clock over so many posts spewed forth from my fevered fingertips. Even more hallucinatory: I've got a teeming horde of endless potential projects and essays marinating in the primordial ooze of my notebook, slithering toward the screen like some Lovecraftian brood ready to devour the digital ether. This avalanche of verbiage? It's ripped the veil off my work ethic, exposing it raw and pulsating like a heart ripped from the chest of an Aztec sacrifice under fluorescent lights. I always knew my creed was to barrel past the herd, outflank the alpha wolves and top-dog tyrants in a frenzy of one-upmanship—hell, I once chained myself to 70-80 hour marathons of labor, eyes bloodshot and soul frayed, without so much as a whimper. But I never clocked the monstrous scale of my own output until it loomed up like a vampire squid wrapping its tentacles around the facts, sucking the marrow from my illusions. What I dismissed as a lazy-afternoon dalliance has morphed into a savage litmus strip dipped in acid, testing the acidic burn of my relentless drive. I'm hammering this out now because it's the maiden voyage into admitting the vertigo-inducing depth and sprawl of how I charge at tasks, like a bull in a china shop stocked with dynamite. Okay, enough ego-stroking in this hall of mirrors. Back to your regularly scheduled daily gauntlet, you masochistic horde. Hasty lumbago, or whatever fresh hell awaits!