As I find
myself in the middle of a philosophy test that I'm not even taking (because
it's not even worth the try anymore) I feel that I'm doing a huge mistake and
that I'm consciously walking into the biggest failure of my life yet, and
taking into consideration who I am, we could agree that that bar is set up very
high. Yet still, I'm going to raise it even more.
And here I
sit, being a complete and utter failure and constant disappointment to
everyone, but I don't even care. I'm pretty sure that I don't even care about
pretty much anything, I'm only able to feel a general sensation of anxiety (which has become something permanent for me)
and the lack of sleep that is starting to get hard to ignore.
And there
he is, the philosophy teacher, walking around the class with what could be
considered my death sentence by his hand, looking so small (like seriously,
he's very small) but being so enormously annoying (and feel free to tell him I
said that if you feel like it) and giving us a quantity of work that could
easily outsize him. I'm so not going to cope with everything another year. I'll
just fail again, and then I'll die.
But
well. There's nothing that I can't do
right now. And we're all going to die anyway, David included. I'll bug him when
we're in hell as a sort of vengeance.
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