Soundtrack: Amy Winehouse - "Take the box", "Valerie", the slow version, "Back to Black", "Wake up alone". Love Amy, me, and wish she wasn't such a terrible mess. Now she won't even receive the honour of having penned the new Bond-tune, a credit she sorely needs. But her co-op with Mark Ronson has broken down and it all looks grim. Everything about her, really, in general. It looks dark and unpromising. Such a pity, that is!
Some further, anti-academic thoughts. Not very controversial, though, just...being thoughtful. Slightly out-of-the-blue, too, seeing that this entry wasn't even remotely planned; it started off as a summary of my current whereabouts and plans, my momentary situation. Which is, in a sense, rather uneventful. Static, even. I try my best at just living easy, these days; being and doing and making a total experience out of it. Procuring the necessary results, keeping myself active, maintaining the on-going motion within which I ecist and upon which my existence depends. Drawn onwards by gravity itself, if nothing else. Events and co-incidence and filler material pull me further, and in addition: I've got words to help me. They form new thoughts, and that's what I need; that's the only fuel we can depend on when the rest goes down, and out, and feeds the fishes. We need nutrition made of pensiveness. Formulated so. And, pure improvisation or not, here is my contribution of today:
Have recently commenced the hardest part of the semester; these most demanding, last weeks - which always involve the greatest efforts on my part. At least when it comes to self-discipline, mental focus, persistence and the likes. Which I'm never very good at. Yet we are student soldiers, we must prepare for our very own tug of war: authority's named them "exams" and they're coming up shortly. Nearer in time by the minute. Which, again, is quite a stressful factor to cope with, on a daily basis, and it doesn't exacly contribute to the act of focusing. Nor does it easen the burden of actual knowledge. Imposed upon us by powers so superior, we have no real saying in what they bring about. What more, we know what we have to deal with, and we've done so for quite a while already. All that's left for me and my fellow learners, at the moment, is to breathe steadily - and work on achieveing some idea of the main overview, remembering the most significant details, and just skim through what one's read a thousand times before (and should have memorized completely by now). It's difficult to keep calm, though. To keep one's head straight and remember same pieces of information, when you've got this threat; which isn't really a threat, however, just an inevitability; looming in the distance, steadfastly closing in on the lot of us. Ice-cold. Murderously hot. Can't be touched, anyhow. And consequently, it proves troubling not only to concentrate, but also to think - at all - because you let yourself drift off into these destructive corners, such dead ends; where everything's complicated enough to become impossible, before you've even realizes. For it's all up to you, it rests on no-one else's shoulders. You yourself hold the key, and at the same time: the full responsibility. If you fuck things up, big and irreparably, you can't blame it on anyone; not on any outer scapegoat; nor on anything - but own inabilities. And that is, truth be told, quite a dreadful burden to bear. Hence, sometimes, I find myself wishing they could have radically changed this system. Altered it for the better; to a more humane, comfortable, adaptable design. Well, I often make such wishes, but on this occasion it's about the plain formalities. I sincerely wish they could have come up with a different method, some different means, of carrying out their formal evaluations. To judge in a different manner, so to speak. In order for us to relax, more, and obtain our (ever so obligatory) learnings with further pleasure, not simply out of painful force. It's all about mastery; for the mind to remain cool, and the nerves under control, and the feet on firm, unmoving ground. Let the logical impulses form equally logical arguments, and thereafter allow these (preferrably impeccable) reasonings to soar through the body; consume every inch of one's perecptive system; be rinsed within the reflective centres, packed with wisdom; and then escape through the fingertips - generating movement of the pen across the paper. Inspired all the way, constantly and without blinking, without insecurity or second thoughts or worried wonder. Shaping black words on white sheets; articulated, well-contemplated, thoroughly considered. Exist to the max, in the moment, that's what they demand - and to take on the challenge of creating a relevant, brilliant product that they may read with infinite pleasure (or condemn as much as they please). Not on any condition, or under any circumstances, fail or slip or make the wrong moves. In which case; if one commits such a devastating, consequential mistake; they will of course resort to damnation. There's no mild tolerance, no induldgence. There's no patience either, especially not when they near the end of their piles. Answer after answer, something's bound to pass neglected. There's no mercy, no sentimental flexibility. We're grown up people, there shouldn't be. We're numbers in the upper right corners, and they place a grade next to it. That's all. The whole, long, stressful road leads to this abrupt stop: at an intersection where you're halt, and from which you might be taken anywhere next. Either sent into blissful content and utter relief, or shipped off to total disaster. Or, alternatively, something in between that's just relatively disappointing. I don't know where I'm headed yet, I normally don't. I'm getting used to it. I never seem fully aware of where I'm going. But yeah, I do admit, I wish the systems surrounding me worked differenly. On different levels. With more understanding - I guess. And I don't think I'm the only one to hold that opinion, especially not right now. So; on behalf of us who attempt to oppose the authorities, not out of arrogance but for the sake of possible improvement, I choose to voice my opinions. If we shall (be obliged to) commit deeds of such utmost inspiration, we need be allowed to actually feel inspired. And with chains of pressure; such formidable demands; clinging to our every muscle, that seems somewhat unattainable. But for now; the rules of this game, this warfare, being what they are - and my being stuck with the situation that I'm in, which I can't elope from; I aim for goals based on own achievement and lean upon my own backbone, only. Resting on my own resourcefulness, to maintain hope of success; working with this belief - and hope - in mind; and thus make working itself a bit easier, a bit more doable. At the end of the day, it's all we've got. Even when it comes to heartfelt opposition. Even if you're bursting with passionate disagreement. I've learnt to take the slow path. And try to breathe, just breathe.