suitcase closed

packing, you are so simple and easy, yet i loathe you. you were invented by the devil to wear down his opposition. you bring out my most deep-seated commitment phobia and force me to think ahead and plan for times beyond this one. why must i determine now what i'll be doing then? this has never been my forte. for this same reason, i don't pack my lunch; deciding what i'll be eating any time before 12:01pm on the day-of contradicts my instincts of gastronomical satisfaction. i find immense comfort in the ability to make a fresh decision at any moment; having my fate sealed and predetermined is oh so unsettling.

as i sit here staring at my suitcase, ajar, much like a door wanting to be closed or a mouth awaiting food, filled halfway with meaningless and irrelevant clothes, i wonder why it even matters? i couldn't care less about what the contents of my travelpro will be, yet it has become an insurmountable obstacle that stands between me and my coveted sleep. and then i realize that this is the case for so many things: a school essay assignment, an unassembled ikea dresser, a house-cleaning mission on the morning after a party that has left vague evidence of war. our mind initially clings to the notion of a task, rather than the task itself, and, within moments, after repeatedly reminding itself of the need at hand and the ticking of the clock, the otherwise reasonable task has promptly morphed into something entirely abhorrent. the first inch of the notion is what holds us back, as if to push out a hand in our face and say, "don't even think about coming any closer".the hand is our own, and so is the face. we rule both sides of the rivalry: our artillery, our soldiers, fighting against one another. devil vs. angel? something like that. but the beauty of this is that, since we control both sides, we can manipulate either or both parties to our liking. we can pit them against each other to perpetuate the inner struggle (indecision and bipolarity), we can let the devil win (masochism and procrastination), or the angel (motivation and persistence).

in the end, the only way to reach a conclusion is for the two to make some kind of plea bargain so the job gets done. we are each a hybrid of some goodygood and some [d]evil and the unique mix thereof helps determine our specific trajectory. which leads me to wonder: do horned angels and haloed devils all sit around playing poker together and drinking tequila?

...or is it gin?