Packing and Discarding
I was putting away all my revision stuff today, since blocks are over, and didn't quite expect it to turn out like how it did. Right now my room looks as if a hurricane that had decided that my room shall be the only spot on Earth it was going to strike had just left after fulfilling its sole purpose - to separate every lose piece of paper from the another (which it was originally stacked on) and to blow everything from the shelves down to whatever surface below it - my table, chair, bed and floor. It's hard to move around in my room because the chances of stepping on something that I wouldn't want to step on is near 100%. For once, I would not complain about how the construction that has been going on at my block for the past few weeks never seemed to end. The state of my room may need more time.
It's surprising how much insights one could get while packing and throwing away stuff one thought one knows very well, but actually haven't looked at for ages.
I mercilessly threw away stacks of paper saturated with my handwriting, feeling a sense of near disgust I've never quite felt before. Was I that compulsive?
I looked at the notes I've compiled, brimming with side info that helped me understand the topics. But what use are they in the face of standardized exams that tests only what's "required"? Sorrily I put them away.
I looked at my prized shelf of books and realised there are more half-completed books than completed ones. Which shows? Lack of patience. Lack of perserverance. Lack of involvement.
I looked at the folders at the bottom of my shelves. They contain brochures of secondary schools. I'm currently a few months away from applying to universities.
So of course they're cleared.
I don't know exactly what it is that I'm looking for in attempting to establish some new order in my room. Maybe it's the wish to leave what has passed behind and start anew totally.
It's surprising how much insights one could get while packing and throwing away stuff one thought one knows very well, but actually haven't looked at for ages.
I mercilessly threw away stacks of paper saturated with my handwriting, feeling a sense of near disgust I've never quite felt before. Was I that compulsive?
I looked at the notes I've compiled, brimming with side info that helped me understand the topics. But what use are they in the face of standardized exams that tests only what's "required"? Sorrily I put them away.
I looked at my prized shelf of books and realised there are more half-completed books than completed ones. Which shows? Lack of patience. Lack of perserverance. Lack of involvement.
I looked at the folders at the bottom of my shelves. They contain brochures of secondary schools. I'm currently a few months away from applying to universities.
So of course they're cleared.
I don't know exactly what it is that I'm looking for in attempting to establish some new order in my room. Maybe it's the wish to leave what has passed behind and start anew totally.