markusdragon
FI5H Agent
I just hit the coursework wall at great speed.
It's twenty to four in the morning. I haven't slept a wink; I haven't had time. I've been sitting up all night, writing the last piece of coursework that I will ever have to do for my school ever again, ever. I'm now 500 words off completion, BUT I just wen't smack bang into the wall.
My time is currently spent sitting, staring blankly at Microsoft word in that manner that we always stare when we're tired; where so many thoughts pass through our minds, but we cannot do anything. We no longer have control over what our brain desires to do, and our brain says that it doesn't want to type any more coursework.
It's a feeling not unlike that of despair.
Some would say that I shouldn't have left the work until last minute; that If I'd completed the work months ago, I wouldn't have hit the wall at this point, but to purists this is blasphemy. How can you not leave it until last minute when there is so much else to do. People to meet, movies to watch, games to play, and with the internet, the whole world is at your fingertips. In the words of Dave Gorman 'I don't know about you, but I find having the whole world in your room a distraction'. There is more to do than you could ever do, and to complete work before the deadline would mean missing out on this.
I don't know why I'm typing this. My brain is steering, but my conscience is not. Whatever it is that's typing this, it's not me. It's the thing that's killing me.
Like despair.
And now my hands are becoming numb. I'm not suprised. I've been typing moreorless nonstop for weeks. This won't be the first coursework piece I've handed in this week. Not to mention the other millions of keypresses that make up my other essays, forum posts, chat messages, search keywords, etc.
It's Despair.
It's twenty to four in the morning. I haven't slept a wink; I haven't had time. I've been sitting up all night, writing the last piece of coursework that I will ever have to do for my school ever again, ever. I'm now 500 words off completion, BUT I just wen't smack bang into the wall.
My time is currently spent sitting, staring blankly at Microsoft word in that manner that we always stare when we're tired; where so many thoughts pass through our minds, but we cannot do anything. We no longer have control over what our brain desires to do, and our brain says that it doesn't want to type any more coursework.
It's a feeling not unlike that of despair.
Some would say that I shouldn't have left the work until last minute; that If I'd completed the work months ago, I wouldn't have hit the wall at this point, but to purists this is blasphemy. How can you not leave it until last minute when there is so much else to do. People to meet, movies to watch, games to play, and with the internet, the whole world is at your fingertips. In the words of Dave Gorman 'I don't know about you, but I find having the whole world in your room a distraction'. There is more to do than you could ever do, and to complete work before the deadline would mean missing out on this.
I don't know why I'm typing this. My brain is steering, but my conscience is not. Whatever it is that's typing this, it's not me. It's the thing that's killing me.
Like despair.
And now my hands are becoming numb. I'm not suprised. I've been typing moreorless nonstop for weeks. This won't be the first coursework piece I've handed in this week. Not to mention the other millions of keypresses that make up my other essays, forum posts, chat messages, search keywords, etc.
It's Despair.