drained
I haven't written anything in way too long. I'm used to having this little exit space to get out of my head, but as I have been too busy, I have kept it shut, instead trying to focus on the task at hand.
But as I find my mind flowing back and forth from joy to utter despair and my energy levels drowning below anything healthy, I find myself screaming for a little pause, no matter how rigidly my inner self condemns it.
Somehow I could sense it gloom in the distance already yesterday night, as I went to bed and enjoyed what there was to enjoy of the evening. This morning, waking up before the alarm, I realised that stress has made its way into my unconscious. I don't feel stressed per se - nervous, anxious about the amount of work I need to do - as much as simply tired and left feeling unable to take in any more or put out anything worthy of the energy that has been put into it.
The membrane of my mind seems saturated with all that it has been bombarded with, even though classes started only two weeks ago again. It's a bit as if the break really wasn't one since all I expected was for this degree, the classes, the seminars, the essays, the presentations, the various organisations I have volunteered for, to continue, eventually, sooner or later.
It was like a parenthesis in suspension, only appearing real and thorough, while in reality it was a simple moment out of time spent silently worrying about what is to come while laughing on the surface.
At times, I really enjoy myself.
What am I saying?
Most of the time I really enjoy myself.
Yesterday I even had a chat with Max, one of my fellow hall-mates, about the fact that I wish I was a student for a small eternity so that I could keep doing all the fun things that one could potentially do here. There are so many various kinds of societies, so many activities, centres of interests and interesting people that it seems a true shame that the rest of the world is not like this. Being a student here is like being able to indulge in all of the things one could ever dream of indulging in while attending lectures given by people with amazing experiences and learning to know people from across cultures - all of which might eventually lead to obtaining a little title one may later use to promote one's attendance at Cambridge.
And then, on other days, like today, I wake up knowing something isn't quite right. There was already someone in the shower, so I had to wait for some 15 minutes (or was it more); I thought my 10 am lecture started at 11 and so met my fellow classmates coming out of class just as I was about to rush into class; I forgot half of my notes for the presentation I gave (and hence blabbered on about totally useless things); and then I find myself walking around wondering whether I am a uselessly annoying person who ought better to just shut up rather than try contribute to anything. And to finish it off, there are the four books that still need to be ingested, sitting in front of me, waiting to be stuffed in and then regurgitated from my feeble little, very tired, and utterly drained mind.
It's on days like these that I stand in the shower and plot an escape route from this most amazing place. Perhaps an accident? How about running away?
Yeah, utterly silly thoughts...
Perhaps I should just get back to reading.
But as I find my mind flowing back and forth from joy to utter despair and my energy levels drowning below anything healthy, I find myself screaming for a little pause, no matter how rigidly my inner self condemns it.
Somehow I could sense it gloom in the distance already yesterday night, as I went to bed and enjoyed what there was to enjoy of the evening. This morning, waking up before the alarm, I realised that stress has made its way into my unconscious. I don't feel stressed per se - nervous, anxious about the amount of work I need to do - as much as simply tired and left feeling unable to take in any more or put out anything worthy of the energy that has been put into it.
The membrane of my mind seems saturated with all that it has been bombarded with, even though classes started only two weeks ago again. It's a bit as if the break really wasn't one since all I expected was for this degree, the classes, the seminars, the essays, the presentations, the various organisations I have volunteered for, to continue, eventually, sooner or later.
It was like a parenthesis in suspension, only appearing real and thorough, while in reality it was a simple moment out of time spent silently worrying about what is to come while laughing on the surface.
At times, I really enjoy myself.
What am I saying?
Most of the time I really enjoy myself.
Yesterday I even had a chat with Max, one of my fellow hall-mates, about the fact that I wish I was a student for a small eternity so that I could keep doing all the fun things that one could potentially do here. There are so many various kinds of societies, so many activities, centres of interests and interesting people that it seems a true shame that the rest of the world is not like this. Being a student here is like being able to indulge in all of the things one could ever dream of indulging in while attending lectures given by people with amazing experiences and learning to know people from across cultures - all of which might eventually lead to obtaining a little title one may later use to promote one's attendance at Cambridge.
And then, on other days, like today, I wake up knowing something isn't quite right. There was already someone in the shower, so I had to wait for some 15 minutes (or was it more); I thought my 10 am lecture started at 11 and so met my fellow classmates coming out of class just as I was about to rush into class; I forgot half of my notes for the presentation I gave (and hence blabbered on about totally useless things); and then I find myself walking around wondering whether I am a uselessly annoying person who ought better to just shut up rather than try contribute to anything. And to finish it off, there are the four books that still need to be ingested, sitting in front of me, waiting to be stuffed in and then regurgitated from my feeble little, very tired, and utterly drained mind.
It's on days like these that I stand in the shower and plot an escape route from this most amazing place. Perhaps an accident? How about running away?
Yeah, utterly silly thoughts...
Perhaps I should just get back to reading.