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the eighty-ninth key

…to a body beauty and to a soul wisdom and to an action virtue and to speech truth, but their opposites are unbefitting.

It is November now. I have Internet again at my apartment thanks to some very generous neighbors below me who I bribe with baked goods. Thus, I will now resume blogging short and lengthy recounts of random and significant things in my life. Get stoked.

Currently, I am exhausted. This means I should go to bed. But first, I want to just revel in how nice it feels to be physically tired. Mental exhaustion is my new roommate. I wake up, read, write, eat, go to class, read, write, and sleep. This seems to be the basic itinerary for graduate education. On occasion, I will squeeze a beer or a jaunt to a club in before ‘sleep’; on the daily, I will apply sparingly breaks for toast, ukulele, and working on a fiction novel. Yet aside from rare instances of dancing ridiculously, I am exhausted in my head before my body even has a chance to wake up.

Today I had opportunity to do some hard manual labor. Mindless, bottom feeder work. I sometimes get my wires crossed, that it was this kind of work that zapped my time when I was in high school and undergrad. It seems easy to pawn off responsibility on the less desirable forms of labor. But truth be told, it is work like this that makes me a hundred fold less useless at the rest of the academic requirements. With a window of time that spans weeks and weeks, I will still find myself unmotivated, and largely unsuccessful in creating quality work. It is the crunch, the budgeting around a menial responsibility that fuels me immensely. Consider my attention span (or rather, lack thereof) to be the unstoppable force. No matter how exciting or promising the project, how invested I am in its fruition, it will simmer on a backburner and be approached with low effort until, cue stage left, some ridiculous responsibility serves as the immovable object.

It is sudden and inspiring. With a sense of drive and immediacy, I feel alive, and tackle the intellectual venture with voracious mental appetite. It makes no logical sense. The best deconstruction I can do is just that my sense of something being a challenge is highly developed from the intensity of my high school workload. If I can complete an assignment no problem, where is the self joy? The elation of having proved myself in a situation of odds-against?  School is and remains my priority, but is a halfhearted mandate until an arbitrary amount of discord interferes with my success. Then, game on.

Here is to remembering what it feels like to find motivation and be alive. I have been re-blasting my cheeseball productivity indie-dubstep playlist, and have written more pages in the last 24 hours than in the last 24 days preceding. Tomorrow or in the days ahead I will hopefully be able to construct a more insightful composition of what my life currently entails, but for now I am going to revel in the exciting aliveness of sore muscles and healing burns, and hopefully sleep like a rock.

My best to all who have wandered their way into keeping up with my strange life–



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