The final season has eventually come to an end. Had 7 exams + 1 presentation in two weeks, along with half pack of Pall Mall and 6 cans of Red Bull, a number of donuts and countless amounts of black coffee.

I feel no shame to admit, all these tough hours in the past are direct result caused by my relaxing-first-half-of-this-semester and persistence-determination-to-join-MUN-events. It’s nothing fun to cram every single formula and table into your mind at 4 or 5 in the Morning, having a cigarette on the open balcony at a temperature around zero, and literally exhausted mentally and physically for the exams.

Yeah again, exams and grades: For the poor sake of which I had to stay in that lecture hall and keep myself conscious to listen to the talking on how to transmit a better TV signal or the reason GPS need the theory of relativity. The only very feeling I had, at 5 PM yesterday when striving to be awake so to take a final “bonus quiz” for an additional 6% rise in my final grade, was P.A.T.H.E.T.I.C.

I am not in fear of making such tremendous efforts to achieve something, never. Yet the problem now for me is another one: is it worth it? The solution was never clear to me. The love for filming, the disgust for programming, the desire for recognition, the hatred towards mediocrity: I live with all these emotions, and they made how I am today. Yet they themselves are constantly in conflict with each other: What can I do? How can I do it? For all these days, one quote from the movie Up in the Air kept emerging in my head: “How much did they pay you to give up your dreams?”I sincerely wish I would one day stand up to that question, and reply with a proud smile: They never managed to.

The life at the moment for me is not much different from driving in the darkness. I know I am driving ahead, I don’t plan to stop anywhere or dare to, but I can’t see any further, I can’t ensure myself if it’s the right direction, I can’t tell if it’s the right way. I don’t even know what I truly love.

The feeling sucks. You know what I mean.

Over the phone with Mom this afternoon, when I said I wanted to make some changes but not sure if it will work out, she just replied, “whatever you decide, I will support you.” And all of a sudden I had to withhold tears in my eyes. I knew you always did. And that is the heaviest components in my life: how could I disappoint you.

I knew it. I know it.

At this moment, all I want to do is to pack every emotion of this kind, into that tiny package at the corner, throw it down to the basement, lock it here and go ahead. “The slower we move, the faster we die.”

Go get fucking-sentimental yourselves; I am rationalist from now on.


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