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As usual, and for all students, except those fucking lazy ones that are always the teacher's pet for some reason, finals approaching makes life only more difficult than it already is. My sleep troubles have come back. I'm on this new acid-reduction medication and it makes me feel weird but I can't describe how exactly. It's not lethargy or lack of energy. It's not drowsiness or malaise. I just can't find the words. I'm not sure about a lot of things right now, but I am sure about a few.
First of all, I hate teachers that don't attribute lack of student motivation to their general lack of having taught anything useful in class. I dislike fake people (what else is new). I hate being ignored when I have a point to make and deserve to be heard. I hate having a leadership position I didn't ask for. I hate it when I can't find the words to say something and when I do, it comes out not quite the way I wanted it to, being too harsh or too technical.
Speaking of technicalities; I'm not a technical writer. I've decided that this is the main reason why I can't seem to dish out a good research paper. I'm bad at finding strong detail in technical writing and furthermore I just can't seem to form my words in this technical way. I mean, I know how to write in the technical form and all the rules about it, but I just can't do it. It's like knowing all the INs and OUTs of Chess, but not moving the pieces properly. It's like having a strong strategy that you can't quite put it in motion. Partially I think it's due also to the fact that I rarely find a good starting point as well as a good ending statement. I feel sort of hopeless.
One of my professors basically blurted out, in class mind you, to the whole class, that my writing probably wasn't up to par because I don't intrinsically care about psychology because I don't want to pursue it (something we had to write about earlier in the semester). I tell you, nothing is private anymore. I felt like taking her to the Dean's Office over it. But I know something. I came from a big university where I was known as 101560968. Now I have a name. Sure for some things I am 54351 (please note the number length), but I have a name to these people, these professors and mentors. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. They come on so personal, with some goal in mind. They assume you're hardcore Christian of course, and that you believe in Jesus and the Lord Savior and that you are generally a good, motivated, well-mannered student. Maybe I'm most of those, but certainly not all. I do not like having my personal "stuffs" compromised by people that assume you are as open and free as the rest of the naive closet-whores, football-playing jocks, etc etc. that they also teach. I hate how becoming personal with them has led them to believe that really we are all the same.
I don't dig that bitch. In fact, I hate that. I hate a lot of things and hate is a very strong word. Some of the things I mentioned I don't necessarily hate, and certainly I don't "hate" them all equally. Some I greatly dislike, some I have passionate disdain for, and some I hate like a hating thing. Time for the digression.
I will get up the Double Feature of Seven Times Once sometime this weekend. Maybe Friday. Oh wait, Friday I have a media presentation in the morning. Maybe Saturday then, before my usual nightly obligations. Yes, Saturday. Check back in then. Until then, leave me some feedback on the board about the new story, or e-mail me. Take care of yourselves guys.
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