Slow Day Post Finals
It was a slow day. It was the slowest day she had experienced in awhile. She finally could feel herself breathe. She could finally look into the mirror. She finally noticed the dark circles around her eyes that look like they would never go away. Minutes, hours, days, weeks had passed and since her last break from school she hadn’t even given herself the time in the morning to brush her hair or notice that ball of lingering sleep in the corner of her eye until it was well past noon while in the campus bathroom. She wore the same baggy, brown sweater her brother gave her that was too large but contrasted nicely against her light brown hair and sloppy glasses. The goal was on her mind. That goal was the driving force that propelled her being. Day in and day out for weeks she trudged to the library to retain her course material in order to receive a grade in order to achieve a degree that would lead to subsequent degrees that would later lead to subsequent degrees and then maybe a meaningful career. As she thinks about this never ending series of subsequent challenges that could lead to more achievements her gut drops in her stomach and she beings to feel that damn bubbling of anxiety that creeps in and out daily with the threatening thoughts from the primal core of her being that scream: “flight! Oh please flight—don’t fight! And perhaps don’t slow down!” She worries: “Am I just another robot?” She doesn’t feel that she is that special. She begins to question whether or not anyone has free will at all. But then she stops wanting to think about that because that is a rather depressing thing to think about—you know—the fact she lives in a developed society that functions in such a complex, intertwined, and forceful manner that it makes her question how much what she decides to do in this life is in her control. Is she a robot that goes with the flow for the sake of a path? She stops thinking about this for it is a little over her head and she thinks it will lead to an unhappy conclusion. Instead, she chooses to find the silver lining and justify her one-track-material-retaining mind. Goals are not negative. Goals give humans purpose. And humans need purpose. A goal is admirable especially if it somehow aims to improve the state of the world. The definition of improving the state of the world that she was looking for is particularly in regards to looking outside the self and instead out towards others. But is it possible for humans to not act out of self-interest? How much is what we do ultimately motivated by selfish desires? Oh no—she feels a bitter twang of realism seep into her being—but she desperately tries to resist and fight back against this paralyzing nihilism with enthusiastic, powerful naiveté. She is young. She is ambitious. She is hungry. She will retain her material for the grade for the degree for the subsequent degree for the job for the power for the ultimate goal of looking outside of herself and working alongside others to improve the state of the world and make her footsteps count. It was a slow day and she was happy.
