Procrastination is the fear of death

I like to juggle many ideas. Ideas that may seem stupid and outright unworthy of attention.Still,i find it amusing stretching,molding,cutting and playing with them, reaching hyperbolic conclusions, most of the times without any real value.

But sometimes, my philosophical tangents reveal to me, what I like to call,’clickings’.

What’s a clicking,you may ask.

It’s when you close a box and you hear that ‘click’.When you ‘click’ bubble wrap,when ‘Il Commendatore’ from Mozart’s ‘Don Giovanni’ concludes.When your mother kisses you or when your kids are smiling.It’s when things just work,when for one moment and one moment only,you can see the world as it is,raw without presumptions and predetermined views.When you finally just ‘fit’ everything into place.

And believe me fellas,we all get these moments.They are rare,but we all do.

Let me get back on track,because my tangent is getting in the way of my other tangent.

Procrastination:Post-poning desires,needs and responsibilities for tomorrow.

Everyone who went to college still remembers vividly the sleepless nights,with the company of a full cup of coffee and a paper due tomorrow.

It had been assigned to you 2 week before,but for some reason you decided it was best to cram 10 pages in one lousy,poorly lighted night.

‘Nah,i will start tomorrow,i got plenty of time.’

‘Nah,i have a week left.I got the ideas ready,i just need to put them into paper.’

‘What’s another episode of ‘Game of Thrones’?

And there you are.Sounds familliar?

We know how dreading and painful procrastination can be.We have many ways to work around it,counter it and dull it.But we don’t know the roots of it.

So,i had just woken up,sitting on the head of my bead,turning off my alarm clock,5 *snoozes* later.Nothing like a winter monday morning,am i right?

I had so many chores and errands to run that day…or i could just leave it for tommorow.Nothing urgent,no deadlines.

Hmm…so why did i wake up that early then?

What if i just go back to sleep and just wake up in an hour or two.

It hit me.

Procrastination is your brain,protecting you from danger.

What if i go to the bank and an asteroid hit me…

Or more realistically,what if i go to the bank and the transfer can’t get through.My client will be upset and he’ll probably complain to my boss.My boss will be mad and i won’t get the bonus.The bonus was the money i was counting on to go on vacations with my girlfriend.But if we can’t go,my girlfriend will hate me….

…and it goes on and on.

‘Isn’t this erratic to say the least?’

Yes,it is.But your brain is irrational,by today’s standards.But when we lived in primitive conditions,it went something like this:

Brain: -I suggest you don’t get out of the cave,because there’s a big,toothy bear outside and you may die in the most horrific way imaginable.Just wait until the bear is gone and it’s an optimal time for hunting.

You: -Me want to go.But me hear you.Thanks.

Basically,your brain is evaluating your current position in relation to a future one,if a certain chain of actions is followed.It strategizes for you,subconciously.

Although,there aren’t toothy bears outside of your house(what’s a toothy bear anyway) and the transfer will eventually go through.

Procrastination IS the fear of death.

But the fear of death is irrational and you shouldn’t subside to primitive urges that have no value in this day and age.


The Story of Uncle George

This past Christmas i got to visit family.

I usually get bored this day,since it encompasses mindless chit-chat,endless questions and forced pleasantries.

Don’t get me wrong,i hold my close family dear,but this time of year i get to see relatives i haven’t seen since i was a baby and therefore we have nothing in common.

Christmas day

My kind aunt shoved in me the third piece of chocolate cake and i was already lethargic from the amount of sugar running through my veins.

The doorbell rang and one of my little cousins(can’t tell them apart) opened the door.

This old gentleman came in,in his three-piece suit.He shouted ‘Merry Christmas’ and picked up my subtly aloof cousin in his arm.

My uncle George is 90 years of age.Still full of energy,bravado and attitude.

He is one of my favourite relatives and one i will gladly drink some of his rather stale,but strong scotch and puff one of his cuban cigars,that he always seems to carry one with him.

I don’t get to see him very often since he doesn’t visit often(neither do i).But when we get to meet,we usually indulge in conversations.We are like-minded and we both know it.

Anyway,he approached my aunt,told her something witty that made her blush and went to make him some coffee.He then approached me and shook my hand,looking straight in my eyes.No words.

He sat next to me and lit his cigar.

‘Don’t eat this crap.It makes you slow.You have to be sharp’,he told me getting the chocolate cake away from me.No words.No hellos,no nothing.

He is always like that.Commanding ,but with an understanding tone.

More people started coming and the place was filled.We are talking a lot of people.I didn’t know many of them to be honest.



Nice to see you again!

How’s the family?

You got the promotion?Great!’

The coffee was served and everyone was in the spirit of Christmas,getting up to date with each other’s life.

My uncle didn’t talk much.He was very careful with his words.

He is always nice and polite,with an amused smile on his face.

He stared everyone,observing them,when suddenly looked at me and said:

‘Aren’t we a bunch’ and he burst into laughing.

At this point,i have to say to my uncle is considered ‘weird’,’crazy’,but respected.

They admire him,yet mock him

They mock him,yet they are jealous of him

But we always listen to him.

As expected the conversations started drifting into politics.

A fiesta of blaming others for one’s misfortune(or impotence),negativity and virtue signaling.

‘Hey uncle,what do you think about all this’,my cousin said

‘His opinion doesn’t matter.He is well-off,can’t sympathize with us.He was lucky,isn’t that right uncle’,another hotheaded cousin.

‘You are correct.I am well-off and i was lucky.In the 80 years i’ve been working,i did occasionally find some dollars on the street’ and he laughed again.

‘Oh come on.Times have changed.Back then finding a job and making money was easy’

‘Times have changed,indeed.Same rules apply,though as always…’

‘So,how did you make it?’,my little nephew(not really) asked.

Now,i had listened to his story when i was little,but knew he wasn’t all that comfortable telling it.He knew most people would consider it boasting and would loath him.His words would go unrecognized.But i saw in his eyes,he felt bad for my cousin’s son,he wanted to help him,maybe steer him towards the right direction.Protect him from his average father and shelter him from a mediocre life,like he did with me.

So he started:

Part 2.