Paper Moon

Sunday, November 08, 2009

It's not even funny, the way my thoughts are changing. Every second is affecting my state of mind. So if you do the math (honour) yourself, you'd find that I have evolved so much in this fortnight (or whatever the time duration maybe). All I can think is, reduce this to 300/500 words; without losing the essence of the write-up; passing or understanding symbolic logic; balancing this with "dude, what time will the class get over?".

Procrastination and vent much weighed; I am suppose to deal with a teacher who constantly cribs about the subsidized government education with it's ill effects (and how we are wasting it by not taking stroke function seriously). Meanwhile, I am dealing with a boss, who apparently does a lot of work (and I do not wish to elaborate this further), but the work focus has shifted to management, which is affecting the standard of the magazine. Writers, who need to send me blank mails and texts asking me to comment on their "write-up". Submissions are done as though, United Nations is dependent on them (food supply would not take place in Genevia if they don't grace me with their articles). Yeah, if it was in my hands, I would ensure your interview would be harder than that at my dream college, but sadly neither there's interview; nor it's strict (invalid syllogism).

Coming to college, they are running and much like mathematics I am going insane. I never, never thought that I would not play my jazz playlist, or for that matter my bass riffs; but this shit-hole of educational set-up has left all of us in a pitiable condition. Symbolicfuckinglogic is pure mathematics and has got NOTHING whatsoever to do with philosophy in the vaguest form (unless you want to associate yourself with the likes of my Logic teacher, who loves Kant).

This is affecting my body-clock as well. I am pigging crazy on food and while typing, I have realised, my wrist. My body flab should go and kill itself someplace else and not the wrist. It's all ruined, the under eye circles; wrist flab; horrifying skin breakouts.

Then being the class rep, I have to answer the queries of my ever-inquisitive classmates. If they would satisfy their quench of thirst asking me about when is the project submission due, I'd appreciate it. Ok, I have NO issues with answering your calls about anything, but constantly calling up and asking to see if the teacher would not want to take class tomorrow.
Example to support how worked up I am currently.

Q> Put this syllogism in valid form.


To copy-paste an article in google documents and edit my lungs out to please the editor in chief.


La la la,
copying- tick
pasting- tick


Say, it's only a paper moon; sailing over cardboard sea. But it wouldn't be make believe, if you believe in me :)


WTF is this?? Oh, isn't this my last twitter update? I COPIED WHAT??!

Ok, I have ranted more than my capacity. It was constipation more than the pressure.


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