it's a life devoid of life. oh, the pain of existence is simply intolerable. mumble mumble moan moan why-don't-i-stop-whining-now-so-you-can-get-back-to-your-life. yup, i've sorta gotten sick of undulating about how i still can't seem to get over myself despite myself. i'm a christian, so i should simply leave that to god.
it is easy to do an essay. all you gotta do is start. get an outline. do some lit review. make a spanking cover page. play dota. watch youtube. hmm... and all this while don't forget to reassure yourself how much you detest the current "education" system you are stuck in and how all this muckjacking secretly amounts to a silent marxist revolution against an oppressive society bent at bending you to its sick demented will. well, the essay should be done by tomorrow tho. i may keep doing all these schizophrenic manic-depressive bitching in my head, but the lifeless heap of flesh it's attached to will still get on with it. at least i hope so.
but of course, the problem is whether my head actually does control that body! psychologists would have you believe that some of us actually have an external locus of control. sniggering about grasshoppers aside, some of us magically submit to external influences, while others are strangely independent. sounds a bit like freud's ego vs superego thing. even rousseau and the other social contract theorists allude to this when they say we surrender some power to a government so that we can achieve collective insecurity. perhaps that's why some us so-called christians kinda leave it to god eh?
on the other hand, in control or out, the more important issue is probably responsibility. i remember this silly pun on the word (which may well be its etymology) that a responsible person reponds. indeed, i guess i haven't been responding much to challenges such as fulfilling the requirements of a certain overly demanding yet underly rewarding undergraduate programme. netto says i may have an external locus of responsibility, where i conjure semantically aesthetic hypotheses to explain away my inability to follow norms. i had to immediately interject with some pseudo-academicism regarding falsifiability - like what's the difference between a person responsible to an exploitative institution and a person lamenting for him? they could both be responsible - to different ideals. on the other leg, i may just be meandering around the foregone conclusion of how irresponsible i really am.
from here i fall into a rabbit hole. control and responsibility both seem to assume an irrefutably reality experienced by multiple entities, right? i mean, why would you bother with control or responsibility if you found out you were merely plugged into the matrix? in other words, if your life were a lie, would you be game enough to play along? as for me, just reaching this point has already pretty much exhausted my enthusiasm for the day. it's the question of 'what for' again: it's not like the outcome of this question is going to make me do a Columbine, become John the Baptist II, or fling my guitar out of my window. but i might just decide to read Alice's Adventures In Wonderland before Through The Looking Glass just to horrify myself.
the underworked mind overworks with unproductive blabber. i might as well pray for Abdul Rahman. and my four ulcers.
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