Theme of Defeat
Saturday, December 11, 2004
The theme of defeat is running rampant during the last fortnight. The stresses of interpersonal relations, school, work all meeting each other simultaneously to provide the whopping and everlasting Christmas Stress Load.
After not sleeping for 37 hours, I managed to sleep eleven hours before an exam, leaving three hours to read and understand and memorize notes (that are not mine) which I will see for the first time. This is the effect of playing video games and going to work instead of studying and writing papers. Sure, work and school can be balanced, but I've failed it. I am defeated.
After not sleeping for 37 hours and hearing two circles of drama, dealing with each, protecting and defending victims of each, I have come to the conclusion that even the bravest of souls have to stop for a while and cry; that sometimes less action is better; that smiles are so precious. But even so, as my friends are defeated, tired and weary, crying or fuming, I am there.
Oh what it is to be defeated, to look down at your castle, or your domain, and see it in ruins, and to ask "What went wrong?" Some kings may never have a chance to learn from their mistake, that is, to see what it is that caused the defeat and to never repeat this mistake, however none of us are kings, instead we are students, or people, with no kingdom to reign but our own lives. Our lives are not over. We can still learn.
Now to go to write a nice letter to Mark Hawkes in the space that everyone else writes and passes their final exams.
After not sleeping for 37 hours, I managed to sleep eleven hours before an exam, leaving three hours to read and understand and memorize notes (that are not mine) which I will see for the first time. This is the effect of playing video games and going to work instead of studying and writing papers. Sure, work and school can be balanced, but I've failed it. I am defeated.
After not sleeping for 37 hours and hearing two circles of drama, dealing with each, protecting and defending victims of each, I have come to the conclusion that even the bravest of souls have to stop for a while and cry; that sometimes less action is better; that smiles are so precious. But even so, as my friends are defeated, tired and weary, crying or fuming, I am there.
Oh what it is to be defeated, to look down at your castle, or your domain, and see it in ruins, and to ask "What went wrong?" Some kings may never have a chance to learn from their mistake, that is, to see what it is that caused the defeat and to never repeat this mistake, however none of us are kings, instead we are students, or people, with no kingdom to reign but our own lives. Our lives are not over. We can still learn.
Now to go to write a nice letter to Mark Hawkes in the space that everyone else writes and passes their final exams.