I slowly shuffle home on that warm evening, nursing a pounding headache courtesy of kinematic mechanical systems and forced vibrations. I like the fact that the shit I study sounds uber cool and to a certain extent do enjoy figuring out the problems, but the fact that it gave me headaches reminiscent of African tribal beats every time I try to delve into its obscene laws and theorems is a real deterrant.
It is the end of Week 10 and I am nowhere near the end of my revisions. Assignment dates are still glaring at me in my mental calendar along with my sister's photocopied graduation result slip tacked on my notice board. 3.75. What kind of sick mind graduates with a 3.75 in engineering? Sigh.
I constantly struggle with my conflicting aspirations; studies, bodybuilding and the finer aspects of life. I have yet to find the balance between them, it is like walking a tightrope with a balance bar that was unequally weighted on both ends. I have a lot on my mind, written and confined to the hidden folder within the bowels of my computer. To be frank, I have been thrown of from that tightrope numerous times and each time I grasp at the pathetic shreds of a safety net that I often neglect to set up for myself before I walk that metaphoric tightrope.
I have a lot to write, and a lot more to say but I think I'll keep my reins on them for now.
On that particular warm evening with the pounding African tribal drum headache I stopped by the convenience store in the hostel and purchased a roll of Oreo biscuits because the sugar rush it provides has always been a stress reliever for me. Throw in some milk to dunk them in and a good Simpsons episode and I'm a small boy once again, oblivious to the turbulence that awaits beyond the doors of my room.
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