My barely-recorded exploits at university are over. Or, at least nearly, and hopefully, over. My mind feels as if it is sinking slightly, only now that it's slowly collapsing under the weight and the sleep deprivation. Just stopping is such an odd sensation, just letting it all go. It is a slow-burn, slowly encroaching dullness. My limbs are all heavy. It is odd not having Harry Lime peering out from the darkness, being all of those things you are supposed to be learning and doing. And now nothing. I have to climb out of Founder's and enter the howling sqwaking real world. I feel as if I should be spinning out all sorts of profound words but I have nothing, I have an empty mess of threads, of Hegel and Heidegger, Stavrogin and Pyotr Verkhovensky. I have a barely there dread, but all pervading real threat and a fear. However, there is nothing I can do now. I just have to wait and hope and get on with living. I am feeling disconnected. Severed and strangely misplaced. Hopefully I can begin to claw it back. Hopefully I will be able to write more often.
Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending:
Thursday, May. 07, 2009 : finis
I am finished.