This post doesn't even qualify as pathetic melodrama because I'm so tired.
I feel like my brain cells are recreating on a small scale what my life is basically right now. I can just picture these poor little sleep-deprived critters, desperately clinging onto life. I just pulled another all-nighter so I could finish off a paper on conservation policies in Botswana, a topic which I don’t care about at all.
That last post sure was melodramatic. I don’t care. If I may revisit it, I think I’ve changed my mind somewhat. I talked about living an ordinary, unimpressive life like it was the worst thing in the world, and maybe its not. I think it’s a lot like death. I don’t mean that just as a rhetorical/metaphorical/philosophical statement. I think they’re both similar, in that we’re all terrified of both of them, yet once you’re in either state, you don’t feel anything and it doesn’t bother you. I always thought that living a go-nowhere life would be so painful because every day you’d be haunted by the knowledge of what you wanted to be, but I think that after all of the failures and missteps you would probably just be numb. I’m not sure that’s so bad. If there was absolutely nothing you could do about it, numb is better than being in great pain. The one thing about pain, though, is if you have the capacity to feel that, you have the capacity for great joy as well, right? Well, not really. I mean how many people have you heard of having terminal illnesses, or just having something terrible happen to them in general and never really recover from it.
I’m honestly too tired to think about stuff like that right now. Today, I met with the Professor I want to do the independent study with. He’s going to read my poetry and get back to me. I called “the woman” and I’m waiting for a call back. (Which probably won’t come anytime soon.) I’ve done what I can, and now it’s all out of my hands. It’s frightening. It’s maddening, really. The poetry thing will probably be resolved tomorrow, but the female situation has the potential to drag itself out for a long time. I’m just scared that it will slowly die, or that it will be resolved without me even getting a chance. I honestly want to have my heart broken if it doesn’t work out. I just don’t want to be left standing there with everything that I wanted to say to her dying inside of me before it ever got a chance to leave my mouth.
It sure has been an interesting semester, and one with a bit of drama. I feel like I’ve changed so much, and then sometimes I feel like nothing’s changed at all. I don’t want to walk around in a giant circle, I want to truly evolve and grow out of my skin.
This post is tired, just like me. I will eat and then work on my defense of literature. I have no desire to do any more work tonight, but based on my schedule the next few days I don’t really have much of a choice. I just hope there’s something to look forward to when it’s all over.
That last post sure was melodramatic. I don’t care. If I may revisit it, I think I’ve changed my mind somewhat. I talked about living an ordinary, unimpressive life like it was the worst thing in the world, and maybe its not. I think it’s a lot like death. I don’t mean that just as a rhetorical/metaphorical/philosophical statement. I think they’re both similar, in that we’re all terrified of both of them, yet once you’re in either state, you don’t feel anything and it doesn’t bother you. I always thought that living a go-nowhere life would be so painful because every day you’d be haunted by the knowledge of what you wanted to be, but I think that after all of the failures and missteps you would probably just be numb. I’m not sure that’s so bad. If there was absolutely nothing you could do about it, numb is better than being in great pain. The one thing about pain, though, is if you have the capacity to feel that, you have the capacity for great joy as well, right? Well, not really. I mean how many people have you heard of having terminal illnesses, or just having something terrible happen to them in general and never really recover from it.
I’m honestly too tired to think about stuff like that right now. Today, I met with the Professor I want to do the independent study with. He’s going to read my poetry and get back to me. I called “the woman” and I’m waiting for a call back. (Which probably won’t come anytime soon.) I’ve done what I can, and now it’s all out of my hands. It’s frightening. It’s maddening, really. The poetry thing will probably be resolved tomorrow, but the female situation has the potential to drag itself out for a long time. I’m just scared that it will slowly die, or that it will be resolved without me even getting a chance. I honestly want to have my heart broken if it doesn’t work out. I just don’t want to be left standing there with everything that I wanted to say to her dying inside of me before it ever got a chance to leave my mouth.
It sure has been an interesting semester, and one with a bit of drama. I feel like I’ve changed so much, and then sometimes I feel like nothing’s changed at all. I don’t want to walk around in a giant circle, I want to truly evolve and grow out of my skin.
This post is tired, just like me. I will eat and then work on my defense of literature. I have no desire to do any more work tonight, but based on my schedule the next few days I don’t really have much of a choice. I just hope there’s something to look forward to when it’s all over.
posted by Justin @ 11:44 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home