Often, the realty of things settle slow, and at this end of the term-break, my mood is sombre and my chest is a holding ground for the multiple feelings of unworthiness, regret, sorrow and all the horrid things that can potentially cripple a big man.
My unparalleled optimism is staving a probable total breakdown, and since I am not a girl, I'm denied any form of breakdown. All I am entitled to, is to suck it up bit by bit and carry on with the exams and make sure the outcome hurts enough to stir me into restlessness and purposeful action.
Perhaps using the word, 'girl' is erroneous. Females are a more hardy species and can take much more.
But I am also assured by the thought that what we do next changes the future.
We have to power to mould the specifics of our future, and to tune the smaller bits of our lives into something desirable and ideal. The future is indefinite and our destiny has not yet been unveiled, and so, whatever we do now contributes to shaping the future.
In the gym, I've abandoned using the Smith Machine for my squats, and have started doing raw squats with the manly Olympic Bar and can heave 80 kgs. Makes me feel bigger and manlier.
Went alone today, except that I had Crystal to sms in between hard work, and it amused me a bit. Music and Crystal isn't bad.
And I didn't really need a companion with what I was doing either. My new workout plan values bigger movements like the heavy squat and deadlift, which is efficient in inflicting stress on your body and giving you more muscles and stripping fat. I'm rather pleased in this department, despite my failures in academia.
I resist the idea that growing muscle will make you a big dumb-bell. There is wisdom and knowledge in weight training also, and dumb fecks will not grow a good bulk if they just lift without a plan.
I will fix my problem with the books immediately.
Too long have I donned the guise of an unintelligent, blundering git.
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