don't stop imagining

[methrowrock]

Where do you go when it is late at night and you have nobody to talk to? The monitor peers at you unblinkingly, anticipating a quick answer before it can blank out again. The cursor hovers and freezes in its track. The caret twitches impatiently, signaling in Morse a derisive comment about your inability to articulate. That's right, I anthropomorphize computer software to keep myself company. It has been a few days of submerging myself in the theories of classical intellectuals. I feel that I have learnt so much, yet still know so little. It is such a privilege to be reading, learning, and thinking, and I am thankful. But, -there is always a but- how do you avoid drowning!? And how do you tear yourself away from what you’re not supposed to do and focus on what you should, for extended periods of time? The things to do are limitless; the time is limited. The conceptual details are endless; my memory space has ended. How am I going to do well? What can I possibly write during the papers, except for shaky doodles of bearded men with frowns, to evidence my attendance at lectures? And now, I am distracted by how “attendance” is spelt, because it appears to be a command for people to dance at ten. Such fun. Is that in the morning, or the night, or whenever the minute hand is 60 degrees away from the hour hand? Huh! You see how you can see through my head? Nothing inside. Zilch, zip, diddly-squat, flippity-scott. Vacuous and fatuous. (OT: I love how synonyms often look or sound alike.) I’m hoping that these are the temporary times when you feel about three inches tall. Need to look for some magic beanstalks to hang onto. Maybe one would even double up as Buddha’s leg, cha-ching! I have done this, I can do this, I am going to do this. Yes, this is the kind of pep-talk I should… pepper my thoughts with. \o/ Did this made you smile, because I sure could use one or two myself. Not pepper, although shaker fries sounds nice as a four-am snack. Mmm. No, this whiny excuse of a post. Somebody, get this laptop away from me!

[edit: 24th November 2011 0200]
This is the part which I dislike the most. The times when your mind is choked with thoughts and feelings and trivial musings that you know you shouldn't unclog right here, right now. So you hit the books, but ever so often, the synapses gurgle with frustration at being blocked. The heart switches and wanders, the mind itches and wonders. Where to? Why, anywhere but here. The vocal chords stretch in preparation, but eventually constrict from inactivity. Work has turned into labour, my dear Marx. We are no longer free to experiment with our wide-ranging creative potentialities. We cannot apply ourselves to whatever activity that we choose, whenever we choose. Alienation = frustration + disempowerment + lack of self-actualization when the human faculties are denied. First World problems? Yes, and I apologise. I will sit down, shut up, and sweep away the mountainous molehills created. But please let me have this moment of metaphorical hair-yanking and mascara-smudging for now. It is the only catharsis I have late at night.