sometimes I find I elevate the know-what-i-want-to-do into a way too important goal in and of itself. And then I just concentrate on the small things–read this, scratch that, nibble here and rest there–and let the scraps of real desire and pleasure accumulate, take me someplace, anyplace, instead of demanding that my wants want something big, ambitious, and worthwhile. So what if I waste some time and energy in stupid things (don’t even ask about the last shit fantasy novel–in bad french translation to boot–I curled up with…) it’s one method I’ve found to help get me out of times of gloomy paralysis.