After spending the last two months panicing about the strains of a deadline looming each week, the time has come where I now have my last essay due on Monday. Seven deadlines in Six weeks has been anything but fun but I've surprised myself in my capablity to meet these deadlines; althouh I have taken my sanity to the brink and back far too often; I am still here. I have Rawls and Nozick seeping out of my pores, Beitz under my nails and after three atempts I still can't wash the Walzer out of my hair. I am no longer the free thinking person I was and instead all that flows through the cavernous void that is my head are the theories and opinions of Political Theorists that I have the joy of studying.
I realised the other day that I couldn't recall the last time that I'd read a book for pleasure or sat down and just watched a film! I have no time for the things that I love. I love uni but I refuse to let it become all that I am. I have made a point of picking up the guitar daily ....again only when there are not others around [but that's how I like it], reading books that I want to read, but have no link to my essays even if I end up citing them in essays on corruption anyway, taking pictures of people and places because it makes me smile, spending time with people I want to because I can't imagine not spending time with them and singing because I find it more fulfilling than talking.
Rather than posting yet another video of a song that I love right now, instead, a passage from "An Essay on Man" by Alexander Pope which I used to carry in my purse...
"Cease then, nor order imperfection name:
...it's back in my purse!
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