Scholastic Somber Session
I wish more people read my blog and commented on the titles. I think they’re clever, but then again I laugh at butt jokes, so I need someone to tell me otherwise :|
As I sit here, in the library, writing up an outline for an exam I have later on today, I’ve realized: I’m done with school. I’ve got senoritis up the ass and it’s keeping me locked down to a chair browsing reddit, tumblr, facebook, and swtor. In whatever class I’m currently in, I can say with a direct and known conscious: I don’t fucking care. I’m on my last semester of undergraduate studies, and with how the school system twists, turns, and buckles into an easier and more cruise-able state, I find myself studying less and going “I think I learned this last semester or so.” I didn’t intentionally pick easy classes: I picked, what I thought, were the most interesting things possible, to me. Coming to find, of course, that those with interest drives (defined as the drive to understand and learn about what you’re interested in) on a level of anyone else, learning new things is somewhat difficult: I know at least half of my current material simply though outside “studying.” It’s inane and I’m rather bored with this semester, save for my dinosaur class, and that is only because I don’t know all the dinosaurs yet, but the ones I do know, I fucking know.
So as I sit here writing an outline for Criminal Evidence, rolling my eyes over stare decisis and mala prohibita, I’ve realized that I may be simply going through the motions: my only use of this bloody book is to have the words in front of me as I fill out out the definitions and meanings myself. I’d think that’s what we’re supposed to be doing, but my experience has lead my otherwise: some people straight up copy the book to understand. Sucks for them.
Oh well, 60 pages of “reading” and a lifetime of realizing I sound like a snobby asshole to go.
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