Saturday, May 13, 2006
Maybe "unaffected" isn't the right word for it
I'm in a weird state of mind, and have been for quite a while now. I think it started around the end of the second year of the university, but I'm not really sure. When the first year was over, all I had were final exams, and I only had half the original ones, because I switched from Economics to Political Science. Second year I had papers to write. Papers that I didn't want to write. Papers that I postponed the hell out of writing. Maybe I should have looked at it as a sign, but I didn't. No use thinking about "what could have happened" -- that way only leads to depression.
I returned to work in the same gas station I worked in before I started my first year. I remember that I thought to myself "I want to go home" after less than 30 minutes on my first shift back. Since it's a crap job it's no wonder. I worked quite a lot at that job, and not enough on my papers. If I didn't have partners in them, I might not have finished the papers at all. At least one of them.
I almost didn't start third year -- this year. I thought about taking a year off. My main reason not to was "If I stop now, I probably won't return". I started it crappily. Due to the stupidity of the Communication department's secretaries, I couldn't register for classes, meaning that I had to choose between several equally bad classes. I was mostly ok with the classes, except one. That one was literally choosing the lesser evil of the remaining classes I had left. That one was a mistake. This is the thing that has kept me down the greater part of this year. This is the class that is causing me to neglect a lot of my other classes. This is the class that I'll be dropping tomorrow.
Since the semester -- as well as the academic year -- ends in 6 weeks, this might seem stupid. It is. It was stupid of me to carry on with this class, even though I hated everything about it, starting from the teacher, through the subject matter, and ending with my own research project. Who cares about different cultural readings of texts? If I was going to do a Masters in the near future, AND if I was going to do it in the general area of audiences or mediated texts, THEN it would have been good. But seeing as how I'm more inclined toward the more active brainwashing aspects of mass media, this class has no value to me, other than "it enables me to graduate this year, instead of staying at the university another year".
4 years in that place. It's 4 years, and yet it's not 4 years. Next year will be just one class, two academic hours a week for the entire year, or four academic hours for just a single semester. Factor in the driving time, going through the library, doing the research, writing, sending periodic updates, and doing whatever the hell I'll be doing in that class, and you still don't come up with more than an average of a day a week until it's finally over. The down side of 4 years is, apart from the money issue, time. I'll graduate at the age of 28. I don't know whether I'll be able to save enough money from work to go on my "Big Trip" to the US. After that I'll have to find another job, combine work and studying for a little piece of paper which states that I have graduated from "The School of the Advertising Companies". Whoop-de-doo.
I sound bitter. I think I am. I have been bitter for a long time now, and I haven't managed to move past it. Since this academic year started (October 30th, for those interested), I haven't had a strong emotion. Even my depression is hollow. It's as if I'm just a hollow shell, moving through nothing but the inertia of "I have started, I might as well finish". I keep thinking about season 6 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where Willow told Buffy that she hasn't expressed any strong human emotions. I feel the same.
That's not to say that I don't feel at all, it's just that everything remains within a small radius of the general apathy that I have. Some girl my friends tried to set me up with didn't want me - oh well; My mom is dating - meh; I have papers due - don't bother me with this.
I wonder how I'll feel after I drop out of that class. I never did that. I never said "this is too much for me". I let my inflated ego convince me that I'm better than most people, that I can handle anything that life throws my way. I was wrong. Just like knowing what you don't know is just as important as knowing what you know, so is knowing when to give up is just as important as knowing when not to.
Maybe I'll start feeling again. If I do, this blog will probably remain with only 3 posts, spread across a few days, with the ramblings on someone too old to act so emo.
I returned to work in the same gas station I worked in before I started my first year. I remember that I thought to myself "I want to go home" after less than 30 minutes on my first shift back. Since it's a crap job it's no wonder. I worked quite a lot at that job, and not enough on my papers. If I didn't have partners in them, I might not have finished the papers at all. At least one of them.
I almost didn't start third year -- this year. I thought about taking a year off. My main reason not to was "If I stop now, I probably won't return". I started it crappily. Due to the stupidity of the Communication department's secretaries, I couldn't register for classes, meaning that I had to choose between several equally bad classes. I was mostly ok with the classes, except one. That one was literally choosing the lesser evil of the remaining classes I had left. That one was a mistake. This is the thing that has kept me down the greater part of this year. This is the class that is causing me to neglect a lot of my other classes. This is the class that I'll be dropping tomorrow.
Since the semester -- as well as the academic year -- ends in 6 weeks, this might seem stupid. It is. It was stupid of me to carry on with this class, even though I hated everything about it, starting from the teacher, through the subject matter, and ending with my own research project. Who cares about different cultural readings of texts? If I was going to do a Masters in the near future, AND if I was going to do it in the general area of audiences or mediated texts, THEN it would have been good. But seeing as how I'm more inclined toward the more active brainwashing aspects of mass media, this class has no value to me, other than "it enables me to graduate this year, instead of staying at the university another year".
4 years in that place. It's 4 years, and yet it's not 4 years. Next year will be just one class, two academic hours a week for the entire year, or four academic hours for just a single semester. Factor in the driving time, going through the library, doing the research, writing, sending periodic updates, and doing whatever the hell I'll be doing in that class, and you still don't come up with more than an average of a day a week until it's finally over. The down side of 4 years is, apart from the money issue, time. I'll graduate at the age of 28. I don't know whether I'll be able to save enough money from work to go on my "Big Trip" to the US. After that I'll have to find another job, combine work and studying for a little piece of paper which states that I have graduated from "The School of the Advertising Companies". Whoop-de-doo.
I sound bitter. I think I am. I have been bitter for a long time now, and I haven't managed to move past it. Since this academic year started (October 30th, for those interested), I haven't had a strong emotion. Even my depression is hollow. It's as if I'm just a hollow shell, moving through nothing but the inertia of "I have started, I might as well finish". I keep thinking about season 6 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where Willow told Buffy that she hasn't expressed any strong human emotions. I feel the same.
That's not to say that I don't feel at all, it's just that everything remains within a small radius of the general apathy that I have. Some girl my friends tried to set me up with didn't want me - oh well; My mom is dating - meh; I have papers due - don't bother me with this.
I wonder how I'll feel after I drop out of that class. I never did that. I never said "this is too much for me". I let my inflated ego convince me that I'm better than most people, that I can handle anything that life throws my way. I was wrong. Just like knowing what you don't know is just as important as knowing what you know, so is knowing when to give up is just as important as knowing when not to.
Maybe I'll start feeling again. If I do, this blog will probably remain with only 3 posts, spread across a few days, with the ramblings on someone too old to act so emo.
