There is an ache, for what exactly, I don't know. For different motions: a purpose. For a world that is not reduced to what class I have when, a life that is not scheduled into hourly blocks.
I could be doing so much more. More than grappling with grandiose academic vocabulary. More than pretending to be interested. I feel as though I have found what I love to do-- there are many things-- but none of them are inside a classroom anymore. The Hunter halls are stifling. Even reading for pleasure is a luxury. My sole purpose is to attend class and get good grades, my real priorities surpassed by obligation. If I do what I WANT to do, even if I am learning more from it than I ever could in a giant lecture hall, my grades will suffer. I am not smart enough to do well without studying. But I'm not sure that I can do this any longer. It's not even about being burnt out. It's just...I cannot neatly fit what I really want to do amidst this nonsense. The public service project I've wanted to do for months is progressing at snail's crawl. But that is what I want to spend my life doing. I cannot do a good job like this, let alone do it at all...but I know I am capable, if only I am able to devote myself. I do not want to flit between obligations like an insect between flowers.
I ache for the world. Not THIS world. Not MY world, but THE world, endless, sprawling before me...
I feel as though I'm swallowing dust...
