(no subject)
As the plot of the book I have been reading for a year now culminates, I am again, as I have been, amazed at how writers are able to come up with different personas for each of the characters, leading or a passing figure, link them all up with the most uncanny storylines and bring the story to life - with mere arrangements of words. Seven types of ambiguity has been a read that required an unrelenting effort, it's as though it doesn't want me to be done with it, or it does. Sometimes it's the complexity of the sentences and the innumerable use of novel words; other times it's how they both marry to present an entirely foreign concept or idea that I need more than awhile to take in. Which is why I could take twenty minutes to read a few pages, sometimes giving up because it seems ridiculous to strain your mind a little more when you're taking a break from studying, to return to it only a week later. Perhaps I'm just really, really slow in reading. While books may be brought into reality of some sort through movies or miniseries, I guess nothing is quite the same as reading the books themselves. I like watching shows because they feed you the story without you having to imagine the settings, characters, the actions etc. But I think that's the lazy way. A series of images summarises the pages, let bits of the plots slip away, and can quite never capture the vigour and emotionality words join together to bring about. I'll definitely re-read it, hopefully in a shorter period the next time.
As I was contemplating in shower about how I have spent a year on the book, I thought about how far I am from graduating, and entering into the workforce. Not far. One year isn't too far. Sure, there has been part-time stints here and there, but being the child I was and still am, fortunate with nice supervisors, I doubt it'll be anywhere close. Seeing my peers who have just entered the workforce, or been in it for sometime now, their struggles and uncertainties, how will it end up for myself? What is the purpose of work anyway? Is it to earn as much money as possible, and to fulfill the duties of certain roles, to pay off never-ending loans, and to conform to what the society expects of you? You get to make some choices, yes, but at the end of the day, everyone's doing the same thing, caught up in the same cycle - trying to survive. How different are we then from the animals, besides the more intricate ways our lives may seem to be? If work is going to replace studying as a major component of life, it has to be more than these. Or none of it. But I also know that such a mentality is affordable because my shoulders are light.
As I was contemplating in shower about how I have spent a year on the book, I thought about how far I am from graduating, and entering into the workforce. Not far. One year isn't too far. Sure, there has been part-time stints here and there, but being the child I was and still am, fortunate with nice supervisors, I doubt it'll be anywhere close. Seeing my peers who have just entered the workforce, or been in it for sometime now, their struggles and uncertainties, how will it end up for myself? What is the purpose of work anyway? Is it to earn as much money as possible, and to fulfill the duties of certain roles, to pay off never-ending loans, and to conform to what the society expects of you? You get to make some choices, yes, but at the end of the day, everyone's doing the same thing, caught up in the same cycle - trying to survive. How different are we then from the animals, besides the more intricate ways our lives may seem to be? If work is going to replace studying as a major component of life, it has to be more than these. Or none of it. But I also know that such a mentality is affordable because my shoulders are light.