Hard to phrase with words
This semester has been pretty difficult. Group projects, documentaries, logic, and a memoir. Getting married. Quitting my job. Getting a new job. Getting prescribed brain drugs. Miscellaneous metaphysical stuff. Realizing that a huge schism is about to happen this summer: Katie is moving to Maryland (we're looking at a place in a few weeks) and I'm staying behind until I graduate. I'll probably be staying with a professor who looked at me like an idiot when I told her I was going to be asking around for rooms to live in. She offered me some space to sleep, but I don't know how much space that is yet.
Next week is my last week doing my major and my minor, then I pick up classes again in two weeks. Then I'm alone for August with nothing to do. Then fall.
I'm grateful that I have time to breath. I have a lot on my plate, and knowing that everything I have to do is extremely heavy doesn't help.
Everyone I've talked to about these things in my life has identified a common phrase in the way I talk about how I do things. The word "fight" tends to come up in all my ethical concerns, both in my life and abroad. Things are hard. One should never assume that they'll magically get easier without effort. If anything, you can learn at least a strategy to become malleable to move around an unstoppable force. It hurts to get jarred because you're too stubborn to move or change, but when you shift and change, you're learning true fluidity, and you can do anything.
So even though I'm as scrawny as I was when I smoked my last cigarette (155 lbs), my skin is so dry it cracks and bleeds, and I'm being medicated for mind-brain, I'm as confident as ever that I can accept any of the challenges thrown at me in these coming months. There's a scene from Game of Death that I was going to post a while ago that embodies how I feel about it. I don't know if you've even gotten this far in reading my post, but I urge you to watch this scene. It's how I feel about this situation, and it's kind of the way I've been thinking of it for the last few months. It's hard to explain.
Maybe it's not so hard to phrase:
"My difficulties are nothing but a light-sensitive, basketball playing, monster of a Muslim."
Next week is my last week doing my major and my minor, then I pick up classes again in two weeks. Then I'm alone for August with nothing to do. Then fall.
I'm grateful that I have time to breath. I have a lot on my plate, and knowing that everything I have to do is extremely heavy doesn't help.
Everyone I've talked to about these things in my life has identified a common phrase in the way I talk about how I do things. The word "fight" tends to come up in all my ethical concerns, both in my life and abroad. Things are hard. One should never assume that they'll magically get easier without effort. If anything, you can learn at least a strategy to become malleable to move around an unstoppable force. It hurts to get jarred because you're too stubborn to move or change, but when you shift and change, you're learning true fluidity, and you can do anything.
So even though I'm as scrawny as I was when I smoked my last cigarette (155 lbs), my skin is so dry it cracks and bleeds, and I'm being medicated for mind-brain, I'm as confident as ever that I can accept any of the challenges thrown at me in these coming months. There's a scene from Game of Death that I was going to post a while ago that embodies how I feel about it. I don't know if you've even gotten this far in reading my post, but I urge you to watch this scene. It's how I feel about this situation, and it's kind of the way I've been thinking of it for the last few months. It's hard to explain.
Click to viewMaybe it's not so hard to phrase:
"My difficulties are nothing but a light-sensitive, basketball playing, monster of a Muslim."