for one day when i forget how studying feels like:
Bouts of motivation and concentration, enclosed for hours on end in woody rooms, murmuring economics and geography fervently under my breath like casting spells. Trying to rush as many 70 pages sets of notes as possible in a day, meals less than an hour before I find myself back in the seat in the corner of the room, armed with a bottle of milk coffee that I quickly decide does not help. When you are studying the good days are the productive days, days spent bonding with books and graphs and reproducing sketches and diagrams. It becomes kind of the opposite; the truly good days spent with friends and family store themselves in your brain not as beautiful memories, but pangs of guilt that surface when you’re awake at night knowing you can’t finish everything. Fulfilment becomes the superficial text that clings loosely to your brain, content you won’t remember in two months.
Charging forth too quickly too late, energy burning out, becoming especially susceptible to distractions that are just forms of escapism. 10pm which most consider the night in infancy becomes bedtime because I can’t bear to look at more notes, but a head clouded with thoughts keeps me awake even an hour later. Looking forward to mealtimes excessively, the only breaks from monotony. Setting schedules but too tired to keep up the rigour, slipping up, convincing myself that it’s okay, i’ll never finish studying anyway. Feeling sick of everything, wanting it all to be over.