I'm starting to feel extremely jittery and scared shit, not to mention nervous that Prelim 1 is in about 10 days and I am extremely not prepared.
I'm even more freaked out by the fact that I'm not in total panic mode yet by now.
I've still got a ton to do and the whole thing just seems so daunting that I just don't know where to start.
I haven't finished mindmapping my history notes and I've got to get it done by Sunday(which is impossible) so I can go through it and hopefully get something in my head.
History is just killing me right now because there is no way I can bullshit my way through a paper if I don't know my facts properly.
At least I feel sort of secure for lit because it's something that doesn't scare me but History and the past and all the freaking wars and mistakes and countries all over the place is terrifying me.
There's this part of me that feels like just screwing this and just not caring.
I want to do the things I want to do like stay in bed the whole day and sleep or just watch vidoes and online TV the whole day, read 10 books in a day because I can.
I want to go somewhere, anywhere, that's not here.
Maybe some exotic place, some uncharted island or the Alps, the ivory coasts, underwater
where I can just forget everything because the future is really just this big huge dark looming mass that just seems impossible to me.
I need school to start again because then I'll have something to distract me from all this thinking and thinking and thinking.
I just feel like breaking down right now because I can't stand anymore of this.
I'm getting exhausted and so drained of fighting my own self and I can't even get my head over how ironic that is.
And it's dawning on me that as the days go by, I'm getting more and more cynical and jaded.
Of life, of the value of trust, of the value of genuine friendship, of love, of people, of everything.
I see myself sometimes like as though I'm a robot on a mechanical drive, doing things just because I have to and getting by because that is what is expected of me.
I find myself searching for the reason, the meaning, the zest.
And I can't find it.
I've shielded myself with this whole layer of cynicism and concrete walls and for the most part, I always manage to protect myself, to run away and indulge in some form of escapism, at least for a while before I'll have to bear the consequences of pushing it all away.
But as it always is with life, there's a catch.
Being cynical and jaded doesn't come without a price.
Because the only way for you to not get hurt is by not letting anyone in at all.
And that's the price I'm paying, the reason for my cynicism and my almost "contempt dislike" of social interactions with particular people.
It's just so much easier to keep everyone away.
And of course, the most bitter irony is the fact that even though I'm starting to reach that level of cynical and jaded as hell, and I tell myself I don't give a damn about the people that have disappointed, that don't show up,
despite all that, the most bitter irony is the fact that I still care, I still love and I still miss.
I'm even more freaked out by the fact that I'm not in total panic mode yet by now.
I've still got a ton to do and the whole thing just seems so daunting that I just don't know where to start.
I haven't finished mindmapping my history notes and I've got to get it done by Sunday(which is impossible) so I can go through it and hopefully get something in my head.
History is just killing me right now because there is no way I can bullshit my way through a paper if I don't know my facts properly.
At least I feel sort of secure for lit because it's something that doesn't scare me but History and the past and all the freaking wars and mistakes and countries all over the place is terrifying me.
There's this part of me that feels like just screwing this and just not caring.
I want to do the things I want to do like stay in bed the whole day and sleep or just watch vidoes and online TV the whole day, read 10 books in a day because I can.
I want to go somewhere, anywhere, that's not here.
Maybe some exotic place, some uncharted island or the Alps, the ivory coasts, underwater
where I can just forget everything because the future is really just this big huge dark looming mass that just seems impossible to me.
I need school to start again because then I'll have something to distract me from all this thinking and thinking and thinking.
I just feel like breaking down right now because I can't stand anymore of this.
I'm getting exhausted and so drained of fighting my own self and I can't even get my head over how ironic that is.
And it's dawning on me that as the days go by, I'm getting more and more cynical and jaded.
Of life, of the value of trust, of the value of genuine friendship, of love, of people, of everything.
I see myself sometimes like as though I'm a robot on a mechanical drive, doing things just because I have to and getting by because that is what is expected of me.
I find myself searching for the reason, the meaning, the zest.
And I can't find it.
I've shielded myself with this whole layer of cynicism and concrete walls and for the most part, I always manage to protect myself, to run away and indulge in some form of escapism, at least for a while before I'll have to bear the consequences of pushing it all away.
But as it always is with life, there's a catch.
Being cynical and jaded doesn't come without a price.
Because the only way for you to not get hurt is by not letting anyone in at all.
And that's the price I'm paying, the reason for my cynicism and my almost "contempt dislike" of social interactions with particular people.
It's just so much easier to keep everyone away.
And of course, the most bitter irony is the fact that even though I'm starting to reach that level of cynical and jaded as hell, and I tell myself I don't give a damn about the people that have disappointed, that don't show up,
despite all that, the most bitter irony is the fact that I still care, I still love and I still miss.
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