The Necrophagous Journal

I obsessively make to-do lists in my notebook. It is my daily ritual.

I note down the most ordinary tasks, the tiniest bits of life admin, and the most tedious of chores.

I note down the big jobs – with detailed breakdown, diagrams, and sketches.

I ritually copy the tasks over to new lists until I complete them. This helps me stay afloat throughout my day.

And I take great pleasure in striking through each item when completed.  Yet, the joy lasts a split-second only, as so mundane are these tasks that their completion carries only immediate satisfaction.

Task done and crossed-out; A drop of serotoninThe void again.

Therefore, it seems needed to utterly erase all these “unsatisfactory” tasks for good.  

I keep crossing them out until the writing is fully covered with ink; I remove its traces from the record.

This annihilation of the past quickly turns into a game of drawing. Out of dead traces of old tasks, new forms grow.

New shapes reinterpret the outlines of words; New relationships and compositions are established.

Clouds of ink move across the pages; blocky shapes stack like bricks; Bulbs and blobs, connected by thin vines, organically spreading over paper.

Nervous lines disrupt black monoliths.

X’s and crosses graciously fly in-between, carrying messages.

Necrophagous insect-like shapes emerge from corpses of completed tasks, and amoebas surround all new tasks, until they too are done, then devoured, feeding a new ecology of oblivion.

On these pages, new life-forms have gained ground, forming a whole new thriving biome on the carcass of repetitive and ritualistic daily drudgery.