Listening to: Lover Lay Down, Dave Matthews Band
Thinking of: The entire run up to this moment
The last proper entry I had was more than 10 days ago... So many things have gone through the tiny cranium space, guzzled through vats of coffee and redbull... Heck, the most frequently used utensil in the kitchen is the coffee press and the baking tray (Thank goodness for the oven food culture in the UK!) Have seen people cry, have seen those in elation...
All that is left is one more paper... Since the last entry, had 5 in 6 days... To a certain extent, I feel a strange sense of finality if not tiredness. There is a sense that maybe the light at the end of this tunnel is the entry into another dark one. I have not had my place in university next year for my postgraduate confirmed and I so very much would like to stay back in Warwick... through, I've in the very few breaks thought if it'd be too different without the 3rd years to enjoy it with. So many of my friends in arts subjects would be graduating... Some are going to be in the UK, yet many are heading back to home in Europe or in Asia.
I guess to a certain extent, it could be a new start without the push. But first, to get through the grades... Just one more. Screws, nuts, bolts and spinning gears. Sigh...
I remember walking back from the top of the parade after one of the worst papers, the many characters I took notice of as I walked down, head barely upright and eyes almost shutting and a soul ripped to shreds. I noticed rushing lawyers probably just heading down to get a Cornish Pasty for a quick lunch, young wives totting their young children to Marks and Spencer. One of the more profound characters that caught my eye was an old man and his wife placing a garland of flowers at the foot of the War Memorial in Leamington Spa. The planted daises and flowers around were slowly withering... as he slowly with his shaking hands touch the plaque filled with the names of those fallen. I found that image imprinted in my head. As I crossed the park and across the bridge, I just had to step into the Parish Church and just sat there with light filtered through the stained glass... Head in my hands alone on a church pew, I didn't know to cry or to sing praises. There I was, feeling so hopeless yet thankful for each day I've been alive and the many faces that cross my path. I didn't want to go on, but felt obliged to live instead of wasting the opportunity. Live, not just exist...
I guessed as I stepped back into the bright spring sunlight, if I fail I'd finally have a reason to write a suicide note. The dilemma, to love life or to hate its very essence and sadness. Just gotta keep telling myself, one more to go, just one more... But yes, I long to see the sun set and rise again... its the most beautiful thing.
Thinking of: The entire run up to this moment
The last proper entry I had was more than 10 days ago... So many things have gone through the tiny cranium space, guzzled through vats of coffee and redbull... Heck, the most frequently used utensil in the kitchen is the coffee press and the baking tray (Thank goodness for the oven food culture in the UK!) Have seen people cry, have seen those in elation...
All that is left is one more paper... Since the last entry, had 5 in 6 days... To a certain extent, I feel a strange sense of finality if not tiredness. There is a sense that maybe the light at the end of this tunnel is the entry into another dark one. I have not had my place in university next year for my postgraduate confirmed and I so very much would like to stay back in Warwick... through, I've in the very few breaks thought if it'd be too different without the 3rd years to enjoy it with. So many of my friends in arts subjects would be graduating... Some are going to be in the UK, yet many are heading back to home in Europe or in Asia.
I guess to a certain extent, it could be a new start without the push. But first, to get through the grades... Just one more. Screws, nuts, bolts and spinning gears. Sigh...
I remember walking back from the top of the parade after one of the worst papers, the many characters I took notice of as I walked down, head barely upright and eyes almost shutting and a soul ripped to shreds. I noticed rushing lawyers probably just heading down to get a Cornish Pasty for a quick lunch, young wives totting their young children to Marks and Spencer. One of the more profound characters that caught my eye was an old man and his wife placing a garland of flowers at the foot of the War Memorial in Leamington Spa. The planted daises and flowers around were slowly withering... as he slowly with his shaking hands touch the plaque filled with the names of those fallen. I found that image imprinted in my head. As I crossed the park and across the bridge, I just had to step into the Parish Church and just sat there with light filtered through the stained glass... Head in my hands alone on a church pew, I didn't know to cry or to sing praises. There I was, feeling so hopeless yet thankful for each day I've been alive and the many faces that cross my path. I didn't want to go on, but felt obliged to live instead of wasting the opportunity. Live, not just exist...
I guessed as I stepped back into the bright spring sunlight, if I fail I'd finally have a reason to write a suicide note. The dilemma, to love life or to hate its very essence and sadness. Just gotta keep telling myself, one more to go, just one more... But yes, I long to see the sun set and rise again... its the most beautiful thing.
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