Still Dreaming: Plotting the Death of Deadlines

They say the black rose is an old symbol of death.  I don't know, from my ever increasingly aesthetic mind state I can see both the beauty of a black rose and the poetic glory in death.  I'm not goth or anything, certainly not praying for death, but I'm also able to see beauty in war.  People tend to shy away from what isn't instantly pleasing to the eye, but secretly a great number of these very people find a strange sort of satisfaction (how's that for alliteration?) in the very things they consider grim.  There is a beautiful aesthetic in violence, often used in movies by Quentin Tarantino, more so in literature.  I just thought I'd put that out there for the time being; if you're wondering what this has to do with this post... not much.  I mean, I do have something to say but it has little to do with black roses (which I really do find beautiful) or violence.  It has to do with my attempting to murder something: deadlines!

The irony in this blog post is that the very reason I'm writing this is to reach the thing I want destroyed: a deadline.  Deadlines have been pissing me off for years, two decades now, and the pressure put on me from them is the reason.  I hate pressure; pressure leads to stress, and I don't do stress, just don't  Besides that, the pressure is only increased when, if you miss one deadline, you have to make up for that one AND work on yet another one. 

See, some people excel under the pressure; I admit that ONE deadline I've had actually helped, just one, and that was because it was something I love to do.  Granted, I do like to blog, but I LOVE to craft stories and narratives; that's actually the reason my last deadline wasn't met: I'm working on a big project based on the characters of Grand Theft Auto, a big narrative from the point of view of the silent protagonist Claude of Grand Theft Auto 3 (and maybe 2, it's possible).  It's so big I may need to break it up into a few parts, but it's not finished yet.  In any case, I didn't plan on using it for my deadlines, but now deadlines might force me to.  I'm shaking my damn head at that; I don't want to waste it on this yet. 

There's the constant issue, however: why don't you just write something and call it a day?  Simple answer: I can't.  Complex: being that I am the writer (notice I said "the", not "a", implying I am very cocky) I can't do anything half assed, and considering that I have a surprisingly large ass on me even quarter ass could suffice, but not for me.  It's all or nothing, no less, and I've had to compromise some of my best for deadlines. 

I don't strive to meet deadlines: I just do what I do and it gets done when it gets done.  Usually that meets a deadline, whether it was intentional or not.  That's about all I have to say on this topic.  Guess I'll break up my narrative, my brilliant story, and use it for a deadline.  Damn shame, but hey, what's more important?  Personal accomplishment or academic security?  I'll leave on that note.