I have been stuck— cooped up in my small room with a gloomy world formed with pixels to look at all day, every day. It's been 3 weeks I have been doing the same— waking up, turning on my laptop, working until it's time for bed, falling asleep, figuring out what's left to be done the next day— and doing necessary stuff in between. See the pattern? More like a fixed menu eating again and again so the waiter doesn't have to come with a paper and pen to note down what you would take for breakfast, lunch, and dinner— it's all about asking, usual? And that's it— packed in a minute to be delivered right away!
Miserable or it’s nothing— if you want me to pick one, I’d say it’s indeed very miserable. All the fuss only to secure what I particularly hate, if not the most. While my work was to write, write a lot— this time, it was to secure a seat in a programme that would make me read a lot. And I must confess, I don’t find reading enjoyable enough unless they are for no significant reason, e.g. reading to clear my mind— that’s I love but to obtain a degree, I don’t find enjoyment deploying my Talent🙄 there, not at all.
But sometimes you don’t have a choice.
Or, as human beings do we have any choice to make, however? Probably not. If we had that, I’d love to see myself dipped in god-forsaken places, and still, I would want to go to heaven in the first place— it’s all a matter of my choice; my rule counts here. But, it doesn’t happen. I know systems don’t work that way, and you get paid for what you do, so, I believe the choice itself doesn’t exist……..I don’t know, sometimes, they form a dense cloud in my head and after trying to melt them down to rain and failing subsequently, I quit trying. It’s easier than trying.
So, now that I am done with my little research work, I am mostly free.
Well, free is a demanding word and I assume I should not call myself that— not too soon, probably never. To some extent, we are free— but only to a certain degree, mostly marked with a conditional star* at the end. That is, you are free as long as you comply with restrictions.
Weird, isn’t it?
And I feel horrible having those thoughts in my head. Sometimes I feel privileged, though, to be honest. Between those two moments, horrible and privileged, I feel confused too— lost in my rambling thoughts and eventually, idiotically overjoyed with the intricate delicacy of the imperfection of life— being the ace in a fool’s game and owning everything from a nihilistic point of view.
Yes, now that I don’t have the rush to figure out what fellow researchers have found, my wings of stray thoughts are getting stronger again after being grounded for almost 3 weeks. And perhaps in a day or two, they will learn to fly again.