The days I spend rather locked up in one room or another. Either in the laboratory, staring at the same computer screens and walls and whiteboards for what feels like days. Sometimes in the library, sitting at the tables and desks that all look alike, and can only be deemed unique by position in space rather than defining qualities or features. Were they children, they'd be identical twins devoid of uniqueness or character traits of interest.
So I spend days in earnest study, trudging slowly to no guarantees of success or meaning, all because there is hopefully a light at the end. While it feels depressing, there are moments of invigoration, when you feel a little flicker burn again for what you're working towards. Inevitably, it is suppressed by the sheer weight of what you expect of yourself of course, but ironically self-expectations are often times one of the things closest to us we have little to no control over.
So I spend days in earnest study, trudging slowly to no guarantees of success or meaning, all because there is hopefully a light at the end. While it feels depressing, there are moments of invigoration, when you feel a little flicker burn again for what you're working towards. Inevitably, it is suppressed by the sheer weight of what you expect of yourself of course, but ironically self-expectations are often times one of the things closest to us we have little to no control over.
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