A day of great psychological suffering. I dreamed about a friend rolling a joint, and I was exasperated because I wanted it right now. Finally I had a smoke and I felt myself relax and the world begun spinning around me, all worries left behind. After a while I remembered I wasn’t supposed to smoke, because this stress serves a purpose, and I became concerned about completing the project. I woke up feeling relaxed and I didn’t want to get out of bed, so I enjoyed this elusive state until the urge to work became too great.

The sensation is pervasive uneasiness, and it’s an old acquaintance of mine. My escape used to be pot—the relief is immediate and quite striking, but soon the guest becomes the master, and this for sure sets the ship astray; not meditation or exercise, as I wrote yesterday.

I find myself holding my breath while working, as if every bout of concentration required submerging myself into muddy waters, and then I gasp for air and I feel the tiredness of my mind and my body. My lower back hurts from sitting long hours, the eczema on my face is spreading, and my mood is rock bottom.

As I write this I see the time has come to take a break. It’s Friday and it’s logical that I would take the weekend off, but weather is crap and the only thing that appeals to me is a long walk in nature. Early next week it will get better. I will walk then. I guess the second best that I can do is go to the gym, though I feel no inclination. I will do so and come back to register the difference.

I come back a different person. Sometimes the difference is striking, others it’s subtle. It’s only when you expect to feel better that the experience is disappointing. I read what I wrote and it’s sound: I need to take a break (even if in my current state it feels unnecessary). I’ll make a goal: complete the game features without UX or design, take a day or two off for a long walk, and then come back to polish it off. The first part requires tenacity and grit, the second love and patience.

I’m enjoying the chiaroscuro of this project. It’s like it’s going through many different hands: some cheerful and some somber, others hesitant and others self-assured. Some imaginative and others practical. Each hand provides what is necessary for a well-rounded product. And I’m also enjoying writing about the experience.

Yes, the difference is striking indeed.