Nawyrus
Redshirt
- Local time
- Today 12:45 PM
- Joined
- Nov 8, 2011
- Messages
- 15
I'm getting disconnected from reality. No practical subject holds any interest in me anymore. Fear used to strike me at the last moment, so I used to get things done, like studying. Now I just can't, The Wall is too high as you can see. A portentous blockade!
It is becoming sadly comical. I've had 3 days to study for a test, weekend, but I just couldn't. It seems like a self-fulfilling negative prophecy, I was expecting that. Instead, I was reading the marvellous Moby Dick, and a bit of The Catcher in the Rye, now I'm obsessed with this kind of literary escapism.
The events just followed naturally, and 2 hours before the test I thought, well, it is too late, I won't go. Not nearly a rational outcome, since I've been going to this class every Monday, 4 hours of suffering and writing, for what? Not even going to the damn exam! The decision itself is alright, since I would get a nice zero, in homage to my lack of effort, without the support of the beautiful rote memorization.
The simple minded motivation that drives all the humanity is now completely gone. I refuse to do things motivated by fear, or by an undeserving instinct to compete and be on top, or by accepting the flock's path. In fact, I abominate any kind of trials, toils and tribulations, whatsoever. Even my opinions are not strong anymore, it seems foolish to be hugged by hard convictions.
But no, I have to achieve, I have to graduate, I need ambitions, I can't underperform in relation to my family pattern. Otherwise I will be a beggar, people say. I suppose I would be rather happy with the money a low life job can provide, as long as I maintain a necessary level of isolation and intellectual stimulation, a dark room with a good computer. As long as I keep poetry in the soul. Ironically, I don't see myself dropping out from this hellish course. I feel stranded, living a lie for a certain comfort, social status, and a greatly possible future regret.
It is becoming sadly comical. I've had 3 days to study for a test, weekend, but I just couldn't. It seems like a self-fulfilling negative prophecy, I was expecting that. Instead, I was reading the marvellous Moby Dick, and a bit of The Catcher in the Rye, now I'm obsessed with this kind of literary escapism.
The events just followed naturally, and 2 hours before the test I thought, well, it is too late, I won't go. Not nearly a rational outcome, since I've been going to this class every Monday, 4 hours of suffering and writing, for what? Not even going to the damn exam! The decision itself is alright, since I would get a nice zero, in homage to my lack of effort, without the support of the beautiful rote memorization.
The simple minded motivation that drives all the humanity is now completely gone. I refuse to do things motivated by fear, or by an undeserving instinct to compete and be on top, or by accepting the flock's path. In fact, I abominate any kind of trials, toils and tribulations, whatsoever. Even my opinions are not strong anymore, it seems foolish to be hugged by hard convictions.
But no, I have to achieve, I have to graduate, I need ambitions, I can't underperform in relation to my family pattern. Otherwise I will be a beggar, people say. I suppose I would be rather happy with the money a low life job can provide, as long as I maintain a necessary level of isolation and intellectual stimulation, a dark room with a good computer. As long as I keep poetry in the soul. Ironically, I don't see myself dropping out from this hellish course. I feel stranded, living a lie for a certain comfort, social status, and a greatly possible future regret.