Studying

Studying fucking blows.

I don’t get it. I can get up at five in the morning, every morning, and be at the gym by six. I can bust my ass pushing my body to failure for ninety minutes. I can keep lifting weights even though the mental fatigue is so bad it feels like I haven’t slept for two days. Like someone tied a gigantic weight around my mind and I have to renew my will to live before every set. I can do all of that, week after week, but I can’t fucking study.

I can walk up to random girls I’ve never seen before and ask them out even though every fiber in my being is yelling at me ‘dude just go home and jerk off don’t do this‘. I can endure rejection and anxiety and self-doubt; I can weather the emotional shitstorm that comes from not getting laid in a year and then trying it on with someone that I have no idea of whether or not they like me back. I can do that, but I can’t fucking study.

The point I’m trying to make is, is that I can endure pain and discipline and all the noble, self-inflicted hardship that comes with being ‘disciplined’ or whatever. Simply sitting at a desk and paying attention to a video and just watching and listening for more than ten minutes at a time, that, that is fucking murder. And I don’t know why.

It’s so frustrating. Like, I have all of this shit worked out in my head already. The reasons why I have to sit down and work to understand things and commit them to memory. The dream I have mapped out in my head is that I want to obtain a bursary to study a graduate degree in affective neuroscience somewhere in a first-world country. To do that I need good grades. To get good grades I have to attend class and study. The former is easy; just show up and sit there and endure the varying levels of educational skill that each lecture has for forty-five minutes at a time.

But studying, man. It’s fucking impossible.

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