One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
As my first year of university reaches its latter weeks, frantic preparations for exams and incessant influxes of information comes my way, I can’t help but block out all abstractions in life. With primary focus being on studying, and the substantiality of something concrete (establishing and building towards my future) all notions and theories which I have been devising see the need to be put on halt – at least temporarily.
Yet knowing the mentality and mindset which indulges me each and every droning moment of the day, diverging my attention away from the external influences are seemingly impossible, as the strain of it increases expeditiously.
Yes, these words are superficially theatrical, and somewhat conceptual, yet the perception of one’s conceptual subconscious is screaming for an outlet – an escape. These thoughts and images which devour me on an hourly basis are becoming progressively tiring – the effort needed to deviate away from this consumption is causing much fatigue and mental exhaustion. When this energy could be used in productively understanding the difference between law and morality in international relations, my stamina is wasted on withstanding the turmoil unremittingly dominating my senses.
The academic year is reaching its margin, but the calendar year is still at its mean. With only a few weeks of academia to wade through, the summer ahead seems intangible and fantastical. Despite having little to anticipate for the summer months of humidity and weight loss (hopefully), there seems little motivation to actually complete this year.
Indeed, studies (especially these topics) are artefacts in life which actually arouse my passion, yet in getting through and passing my exams, I know there is little on the other side – at least until September.
After this year’s studies, the next “obstacle” to overcome would be, possibly, the endless days of a city-summer. Cynical as this may sound, yielding oneself to intellectual challenges seems like the most prolific deflection – and yet without this intellectual stimulation, reality becomes nothing more than the ideation of social dilemmas versus financial progress (given that a job may be found for the holidays).
Alas, I shall end this pointless and infertile rambling about the notorious me, and enter into a temporal world of much-needed slumber and unfortunately, agonizing images which some call dreams, others, nightmares.
What, oh what to do, when my subconscious is attempting to break through into my conscious conscience?
If only for once, I had the narcotics to suspend what many claim to have been born with – the capacity to feel…
No. This must end.
This blog must reach its terminus.
And this torment must vacate from the premises of my intellect.