Originally published in mathNEWS (Waterloo’s Bastion of Erudite Thought) Article 138.6 (Nov 30, 2018) page 12:
It’s eerily similar to trying to get up for those morning classes.
Maybe you slept at 5am the night before… because you were
scrolling through social media or playing video games or
watching useless YouTube videos or scrolling through social
media or finishing the assignment due too soon that you
should’ve started too long ago or drinking with friends or
watching useless YouTube videos…
Or maybe you slept on time… By the time you had to get
up, you’ve gotten well over 8 hours of sleep, but you already
missed all the classes last week. If you go today, you probably
won’t understand anything anyway. Anyway, that class has
notes online and even if it doesn’t, you’ll just ask someone
else in class for your notes. Might as well go back to sleep, or
just lay down staring at the ceiling or the marks on the wall.
Like right now, you’re looking up, focusing in and out on
those annoying eye floaters. Some of them are zooming by,
others are taking their time, like the snaking raindrops on
your room’s window, but with no sense of gravity. It doesn’t
have to be a morning class. After all, it’s 8:50 pm right now.
It doesn’t have to be a class. You’re not delaying going to class
right now. You’re delaying writing this very article. Writing
is supposed to be a fun experience for you, an enjoyable
experience. But even it can be procrastinated. Or maybe you
don’t like to write. You can still procrastinate something you
enjoy doing, but why would you do that? Does that mean you
don’t enjoy it?
Oh look, it’s time to go eat some pizza. You already ate dinner,
but might as well have a slice or two. You’re also using this
time to take a break from everything else… at least, that’s
what you tell yourself. What is the maximal amount of time
you can spend outside of doing assignments that can still be
considered a break?
Who knows. You’ve gotten up. You’re sitting now. Typing all
this up. Going to eat that pizza. After you finish, there’s still
so much to do. You’re physically sitting up, but even now…
Willpower eludes you. Why are you writing this anyway?
Is anyone reading right now? Who cares. You’re writing for
Will there be any catharsis after you’re done writing?
Maybe. After you finish those assignments, then you’ll be free.
You’ll be able to get up. You’ll find that willpower. No, that’s
not true. What about after you finish those exams? No, it still
isn’t over. There’s gonna be co-op to worry about. Or another
school term. Or you’re going into the workforce full time.
There’ll still be so much to do. After it’s all over, then there’ll
be peace. But then what’s the point of getting up when there’s
nothing left to do?
Is this some kind of attempt at being edgy? Seeking attention?
No, it’s not. Nobody knows your name here. No, this is for
you. (But don’t you hope somebody will know?) What is this
though? How many keystrokes will it take to find the courage
to get up? How much ink needs to be spilled to convince you
to go study for those exams, finish those assignments, prepare
for the future? How many meaningless symbols need to be
writ for you to try to go enjoy yourself? How much cheesy
motivation is required to lift your spirits?
You’re done eating now, but you’re still not up. You realize
you were never awake in the first place. You’ve been asleep for
too long. You pull the blanket closer as the winds of winter
overpower your heater, ice cold tendrils finding their way
to your skin through the tiny gaps between skin and cloth.
Tonight it’s cold, but maybe tomorrow it won’t be. Winter can
only last for so long.. How long do you have to wait for spring?
You’ve been asleep for too long. Maybe you should get up now
and weather the darkness. The tune of the universe is lacking
its laments because it’s lacking you. You’re thinking I’ve
written all this about myself, but I wanted it to be about you
all along. I’m writing for you. (Am I delusional?)
(I have to end this eventually).
The song has sorely missed your voice; make it heard again.
Open your eyes and wake up; you’ll reach winter’s end
After summer, dark and cold will creep up once more
Will my voice be enough to quench your soul?
“Strike the beat harder when the taste for music is lacking
Sing the song louder when the weight becomes overbearing”
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