mira

the reason media framing is of heavy implication is because its nature to emphasize an element of a reality to steer audience interpretation.

distortions are not misunderstandings per se but rather a result of the audience and producers' unique interpretive framework that propels them to reject the producer's intended message in favor of a meaning they find more personally resonant.

Whether or not I deserve to be with friends to have a good time or not is besides the point. I should not be using social connections to cover up for the fact that I vae beeb neglecting my academic duties. I am a graduate student in one of the hardest schools to exit from and I have not done a single decent reading in the past days. And I hate to admit that thinking about how I have not done any real reading is adding up to my stress.

If you think about it, anything is a microcosm of the world. The smallest facet of human expression practices reflect the world it belongs in--it reflects the societal issues that infect it. If there are for example gender inequality issues, language being center to human behavior, these issues will seep into the language of even the smallest cultural phenomenon or expression.

And you learn caffeine makes you brain-addled and still thirst for a taste. What does that make you? What image is that attitude projecting? Weak? Cannot even control herself. The world you live in is not the same chill world you knew. It has become so expanse. Your horizons a lot bigger but you remain stuck in your spot in that shore, safe but weak and small. You know what needs to be done. Take a step, real step towards the sea and swim and survive.

You seriously should be reading journal articles, reading materials that will help expand that brain of yours instead of reading dirt and watching shit.

Tell me honestly: is it that hard to suppress yourself from that addiction of yours. Just how undisciplined have you become? I keep on telling you that addiction is what is making you stupid and dumb and foggy-brained. Will you please stop. For the love of all that is holy. Stop it.

Stop it with you addiction. It does not help you. How many more low scores do you need before you slap yourself out of that trance? Do what ever you fucking need. Lose whatever that needs losing. Sleep? People? Joy? Laughter? Lose them. Take what you need to be at least an average maroon school student. Stop romanticizing your being there and start acting like you belong there.

Look at you, weakling. Could not even structure a paper without AI. You can say you used to be great at this thing in the part but what for? You are stuoid in the present. Your brilliance and greatness in the past does not compensate for the present. All that matters is the present. You have to quickly get over whatever ut is that burdens you, keeps you astray. You have to keep thinking. Keep adding up new information in your brain. Being in yupi is not a destinatikn. It is a process. It is an on-going battle. You do not tell others you study there while being fucking mediocre. What happened to you? Is this all you can do? Fucking incompetent.

What are low scores but a knife pointed at you, saying you are dumb. As you get more confident with your paper, the knife gets sharper. I could wallow in pain and self-disappointment now. I could tell the world I did my best, but I know I would be lying. I certainly did not do my very best. I have been complacent and acted like a dumb—if not normie student. I would not lie to myself and believe that it was unfortunately my best. I know I could have done something to elevate my class standing, make my paper deserve at least a line of 8. I could have, for example, tried harder to wash that fog in my brain away. I could have pretended to eat brain-healthy foods. I could have avoided sugar as I heard it is poison to the brain. It makes you stupid and forgetful—they said. But what did I do but dumbly had myself washed away by the waves that are not even that big. It was me that was small. I was weak in comparison to that small wave. What an idiot. I could not even get over that fucking addiction. Fucking stupid.

Letting my professor’s very specific and very long comments on my paper sit in my mind, to brew, to ferment.

No shame in re-reading a difficult text until it becomes digestible.

graduate school is sometimes about not having enough breathing room to digest one academic book before being bombarded with twenty more in a matter of a week.

there will be a single decision that will one day cause an overwhelming realization of our own incompetence. as for me, that is getting into the top school of my country. it was bearable the first semester, but devastating the second. every professor is a master of his own craft. oh i would have loved to talk like them, and would have died for making out of myself a person of equal caliber with them as the seminal creations. i would have been content with being their echo, but to my debatably shrinking brain, even echo would not lend itself use. to my dismay, i couldn't even memorize, the lowest form of intelligence, their manner of talking, their diction.