Sunday, August 7, 2011

melancholic


"Not much time left now; not much more to endure. Just a few more short weeks, she tells herself, just a few more weeks to freedom. She squares her shoulders and gathers up her things to work, pen poised above paper just so, textbooks splayed open to the appropriate pages. She purses her lips in concentration, telling herself that she needs to focus, she needs to focus so she can get this done and get on with her life. The words in front of her eyes blur into meaningless squiggles across white paper, her pen refusing to flow across the page to make sentences of meaning and insight and analysis. Her head hurts, a dull throb in her temples that refuses to go away. She sighs and throws her study materials away, cradling her head in her hands. When did it get so hard, she wonders, when did it get so hard to do this? When did her motivation leave her? When did she stop caring? She sighs and frowns at her books. After a moment, she reaches over and picks them up again, setting herself to work. Not much longer now, she tells herself. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this."

2 comments: