reality check

There are days where I'm all like Bring it on, bitches! 

And there are also days where I'm like Just kill me now. 

Undergrad studies have officially started approximately about 2 months ago, and I've never had a clearer definition of confusion till date. While I must admit that a change in teaching style (which also leads to change in EVERYTHING) is pretty invigorating, it scares me to think that I have nothing to produce at this point of time. And what scares me even more than cockroaches is the fact that time is running out, and I still cannot find that spark. Is this what undergrad education for art schools like? Loughborough University, can you please assure me that something good will happen after all these mindgames you've been subtly inserting into our daily classes? I've never bothered to play such mindgames with any humans, and the thought of an institution playing mindgames with me is just at a whole new level of terrifying.

And may I just justify that my recent bout of existentialism crisis is due to the lack of exercise? My ankle is recovering pretty well, but at this point of my life, I think I need more than merely just pretty well. I need a full 100 percent confirmation. It's either you cut them legs off, or gimme a proper functioning one. While yes, my ankle will recover, I'm just saying that yours truly isn't a great fan of transitions. Gradual-ity kills me most of the time - that I therefore conclude I have no patience of a virtue. In fact, I went down for touch last thursday and it was better than ever. I played like crap, couldn't defend or even run any other direction besides the current one I'm taking, and left the pitch with a slightly (more) swollen right ankle. But I had a helluva time. It was good. It was refreshing. It was definitely so much needed after 3 weeks of being inactive. I swear some of my ligaments died from my limited movement. And while some died, I gained a whole load of weight.

Or maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder.

But strangely, that theory doesn't really apply to many things in life. I wished I was lemming over the clothes that we removed gracefully from my closet. I wish I was still, as a matter of fact, peeping at my phone every once in awhile to see if it lights up with a text from a particular human. But more often than not, I'm just looking out for texts from anybody that I can hold a proper conversation with.

It is a little sad to acknowledge that proper conversations are gradually disappearing in my life. This transition is shit. And what makes it more shit is that I don't even know what is at the end of this transitory period.

I need to get things going. I need to up my pace and up my motivation system. I think this is the consequence when you place your entire motivation on a single entity - and when it's gone, you suffer. Such irresponsibility, but it happens. They leave and you're left alone to clean up the mess. Oh wow, I just had a minor epiphany that my parents are doing just that. They've placed everything on me. Everything.

Why you gotta be so rude?