It’s 2:25 am and I can’t sleep. Well, to be fair, I’m supposed to be studying. I’ve got an end semester examination this Friday (which is why I haven’t posted in so long) and five modules are coming and I have started studying, like, an hour ago. I’m already tired. I look at the damn book and get shivers down my spine and an unexplained anxiety in the center of my chest like the ghost that has been haunting my house lives right in the middle of those pages. I swear, textbooks are possessed. That’s my new theory. Because I look at a graph and my mind distorts it to this:
It’s fucked up.
I don’t get the point of exams. We have to mug up everything we have done in the past six months and vomit it out on a paper in a format that is pleasing to some random person who will be checking it and whether you’re qualified to move ahead in your academic life or not is based on how much that random person is pleased by your abilities to mug up. Unless this is test for Dr. Spencer Reid doppelgangers, I don’t see why testing my eidetic memory is a marker of my intelligence.
This ain’t the Miss America Memory Retrieval Pageant. Don’t brain shame me.
And, more importantly, what’s with all the pressure? If you don’t do good in school, you won’t get into a good college and then you won’t get a good job and then nobody will ever like you and you’ll hate your existence and crows will peck your eyes out and you’ll spend the rest of eternity rolling a boulder up the hill with Sisyphus.
There are students who are committing suicide because of the immense pressure that is being put on them by parents, teachers and a broken education system. Yes, I went there. It’s midnight and with every word I read from that damned book, trying to stamp it on the inside of my skull, I get more and more homicidal.
On that joyous note, happy studying! May the odds be ever in your favor.
Sidenote: If you think the exams are making you go through way too much anxiety, fuck them. Your mental heath is more important. Stay happy. 🙂 Toodles.