I feel like writing something down, yet my fingers get stuck on the keyboard. As my thoughts are paused one time after another, time slips away quietly, just like it always does.
As of now, one exam is done, and it is nice to take a deep breath without any worries. There are more to come, like the never ceasing troubles in life, but just for tonight, it isn't the time to think about any of that. I myself am aware that some work is still left halfway done, and some hasn't even been started yet. But even though I'm throwing away my sense of direction for a moment, this guilty conscience is in complete charge of me, and I'm a bit tired to resist anything for now.
A couple of friends left right after the exam, claiming this was going to be the best night of the week. After wishing them safety and a fabulous time, I strode back to my room. I'm not disciplined enough to refrain from having fun during weekdays, but getting myself drunk and unconscious seems rather pointless. Alcohol can erase the pain for the moment, much alike to tranquilizers, but after I come back to my senses, nothing changes, and I waste more time doing nothing at all but recovering from the blackout. It's not my time to have vacations yet.
Sometimes I wonder, if preparing for an exam consumes much time and wears down my patience, then afterwards, can I be liberated from such unpleasant experience? It's true everything has been completed, and I'm not idiotic enough to worry about what I did wrong, but what else is there to do? I'm not going to touch this subject for a while, and if I promise myself not to worry about any work, then this night, as far as it goes, feels a bit too uneventful. This emptiness begins to clog up in my mind, or is it that so much burden is released at once and my mind has been vacuumed?
Occasionally, it almost seems like my spirit can drift outside of my body, and look down at myself from the angle above. A part of me will then laugh at my own indolence:while analyzing every possible scenario, I don't like putting my hands into making any of them happen. Too much thinking can kill an opportunity, and I've tasted it more than once. Despite the jeer from the intelligent side of me, the spirit alone can't alter the reality; as soon as it gets frustrated at my own powerlessness, it returns to where it comes from, and everything turns back to normal once more. This sudden self-awareness, followed by rendering myself back to oblivion, becomes a recurring dream, if not nightmare, of my life.
I hear another mocking from inside. Why would I even write these things down? If it's not for my own cowardice and indecisiveness, then I'm simply pathetic, using "recording the daily thoughts" as an excuse to keep sleeping in my dark cocoon. But a cocoon will eventually be broken apart. The only remaining question, is whether I'm the one who'll crack it open, or it's someone else smashing it into pieces. I can see it's coming, and if a storm is destined to wash away my old self, then let it be as fierce as it can.