it’s easier to write when my hormones are at physiological but illogical levels and the slightest stimulus can trigger a cascade of unbearable emotions.
i have a month till my second attempt at an exam i am bound to fail again because i have, to put it simply, not been studying. what i thought would be 2 weeks of stress-free floating around in a department i care nothing about turned into a fortnight of long work days and catching up on information i can’t digest fast enough. i chose to spend my first free weekend off as a recluse in the highlands but the moment i reached sea level, i sped off for a dose of civilisation.
and here i am, 11hrs away from another work day, 48hrs from my first call, my room in a mess from all the unpacking i have yet to finish, feeling extremely uncomfortable because of all the coffee and durian i’ve consumed, absolutely reluctant to open a book or attempt any questions or even face the day tomorrow because…because.
i wish i were strong enough to be satisfied with a couple of hours to myself each day and to give the rest to work, study, community. but i crave more idle time now than ever and loathe any form of commitment that rattles me or requires me to push my limits. this is the kind of “strawberry” attitude (easily bruised, requires air-conditioning) that i’ve tried to distance myself from and yet i’m a fine example of. it’s terribly disappointing.
there are times i think i’m being too hard on myself but when i consider how blessed i am, i’m disgusted by how much i’ve wasted.