cabin fever

"i think the writing is eating up my self,
preventing any togetherness with anyone,
... recycling [texts] over and over again.
how much longer, how many more?"

- iggy pop, "afraid to get close"


no worries, i haven't quite reached the stage that mr. pop described there, but i fear i might be getting there soon. as some of you might know, i placed myself under house arrest about two weeks ago in order to get through my backlog of articles and, more importantly, to finally get somewhere with my ph.d. thesis.

as far as the writing is concerned, it's been a fairly successful plan but i'm growing a bit concerned about the side-effects: cabin fever, anti-social behaviour and delusions of grandeur.

i've decided to allow myself one trip per day out of my flat to interact with reality, which usually means that i end up in a cafe somewhere around the corner. so far so good, but the problem is that cafes tend to have other customers: noisy children running around with their frustrated young mothers shouting after them, youngish men in suits discussing their investment portfolios, smokers complaining about the new stringent smoking regulations, young lovers discussing where to go for a weekend break... and all of them are conspiring to break my train of thought with their insolent, endless cacophony! all of them are conspiring to get between me and my thesis! nay, all of them are conspiring to get between Humanity and My Thesis, for isn't it humanity that stands to gain the most from the masterpiece i am creating? fools, do they not understand?!?

i drown my four double-espressos in quick succession, pay up and shuffle back into the safety of my own four walls, cursing the other customers under my breath....