Project Pressure - 50 Simple Steps to Creative Genius

Dear Internauts,

Outside, the sky cracks open, my heart continues to pound out my chest. The rain makes my vision-impairing dry eyes feel all the more dispassionate. The absurd, worse-than-winter chill of AC on summer sweat only heightens the sense of dreadful anxiety playing skrillex with my nerves.

Folks, I'm not doing great.

A week of exhaustion following a week of sleeplessness tends to have that effect, true. Still, I find comfort in the lightning. It gets me.

I'm by no means bipolar. I think the manic-esque productivity spikes surrounded by a fluffy down of downward spiral fit more of a pattern indicating that my soul-crushing depression can be temporarily blockaded by the rupturous nature of "project pressure".

Now, what is project pressure you, doubtlessly, wonder?

Well, you glorious phalanx of haloed chickadees, here's what I mean...I guess, in list form.

1. Behold: A NEW IDEA. 
2. So I take that poor hatchling of an idea and I throw it against the wall with increasing severity until I'm no long able to catch a hold of its return momentum. 
3. At which point it slams into my person so hard that one of us starts bleeding. 
4. And likely crying. 
5. The blood and tears, as they're apt to do, initiate SWEAT LEVEL MIDNIGHT. 
6. All the planning I should do is instead taken up with procrastination and reworking of the most tangential aspects of the process until...
7. I take a blindfolded, backwards, over-the-shoulder, half court shot at a mental calendar toward what I hope is a realistic schedule and deadline for completion. 
8. I miss that shot, not entirely because I still have no real hold on what the project itself actually entails. 
9. Enter: Random burst of responsible and well-thought out, albeit far too detailed laying out of everything I could possibly hope and dream for the perfect, best case scenario result of the tireless hard work I'm definitely going to put into this, for sure, oh yeah, of course...right...
10. A week of being too scared of every possible worst case scenario to even start (this can sometimes last for several weeks/years). 
11. Several false starts later...
12. Drown in a deluge of creative energy and inspiration while I'm trying to focus on something else entirely (such as driving or reading or talking/listening to other people or cleaning...often cleaning)
13. Enter a mad panic mode of slamming down as much of that spark as I can snatch from the aether before it disappears forever like that brilliant dream I just woke from or that pasta sauce I made five years ago and still haven't matched...
14. Lose track of all of that while I follow the "meep-meeps" of some quirky, shiny, and temporarily fascinating random intrusive figment 
15. Capture genius in a bottle 
16. Drop the bottle
17. Scoop up what little I can of the genius before it gets too diluted by my salty, salty tears
18. Realize the previously set deadline came and went two weeks ago
19. Fall into a creative energy pain coma funk for a few days/weeks/lifetimes
20. JUST DO IT!
21. Realize I can't JUST DO all of IT in one night
22. Get done enough of it that I have something to work off of
23. Keep going
24. Keep....going
25. keep....go...ing
26. Ah, I'm almost done
27. New deadline set!
28. All this progress has completely changed my perspective on the project's direction, so I'm gonna close my eyes, hang a sharp left, and just drive till the laws of motion become a bit less abstract
29. I should probably eat something...or sleep...or shower....NAH!
30. This new direction has brought up several issues with previous work
31. Go back and change things
32. But now I realize how discordant and uneven this mess has become
33. Blood sugar reaches critical low
34. Gotta keep micro-editing
35. Too exhausted/hungry/bleary-eyed
36. Finally eat/sleep/shower/take medication/move
37. In the morning/whenever I next get around to it
38. Everything that was once bright, shiny, and genius is now AWFUL!
39. This is the worst thing I or anyone in the history of ever has ever made
40. EVER
41. But Maybe NOT!?!!?!!!???!!!
42. Marathon Maker: ACTIVATE!
43. Slide into home. 
44. Face full of dirt. So much so I can't really tell what good art even is anymore.
45. Give up on perfection. 
46. FINISH!!!
47. Share and enjoy for, at most, a few hours.
48. Fall into the deepest, darkest, dankest, deadliest divot of all time. 
49. I will never get another good idea again. 
50. Behold: A NEW IDEA.

And that's how it's done. 

By the by, here's a lyric video for a song of mine. Hope ya like it (especially since you now know exactly how it was made).

Thanks for reading, 

Odist