Harsh Reality

I need to rest my mind. My head is throbbing. Aching. And its not physical pain, its psychological. There is a tightness to my existence. I can feel it extend into my chest, and restrict my breathing. 

Today is Sunday. I have a reading tomorrow for my creative writing class. 

Repetition is more important than duration for making an impression on the mind. To learn, repeat short strokes at regular intervals. Even better at irregular intervals. Exposure, bit by bit, will ripen understanding. 

The subconscious mind is the seat of all power. 

What am I doing with my life. I still don’t know. 

My Jewish roommate hums to himself for hours upon hours a day, humming songs or melodies or just making humming noises to himself. I’m not sure if he’s aware, or its a therapeutic, a coping mechanism, like an oral fixation but with humming fixation. In my room, it resembles a low chant. It robs me of silence and concentration, but its harmless enough that I do not have the courage to ask him to stop. 

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