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My final exam takes place tomorrow. For this year, at least.
I am fascinated by knowledge, and eager in learning, but poor at studying: for the last few days - weeks, if I'm to be honest - I've taken rather to ignoring the world; watching Farscape and Stargate DVDs rather than hitting the books: retreating, if you will, from reality. I can do nothing productive, can barely even exercise, barely communicate, without feeling an excreble paralysis or a paralysising isolation. Of late, I've been entirely too afraid.
But tomorrow I do the final exam of the year, and then I'm free. Free to exercise, free to work, free to attempt to learn to write again. Free, I suppose, to learn to be again, instead of being continually in suspense.
Anticipation's a bitch.
It's summer. Tonight, for the first time, I've noticed the pale blue shading to yellow at the horizon after sunset, and felt real summer warmth. Which is nice, you know, but I imagine it's been around for awhile: I haven't exactly been paying attention.
The Dublin Maritime Festival took place at the weekend. The tall ships sailed into the Liffey on Friday, and out again on Monday. They're an amazing sight, all immensity and grace, and yet, at the same time, so fragile compared to the expanse across which they sail.
I've applied to do a sail training course aboard the Asgard II. I need to do more strange and interesting things while I still can. I can't do an Open Water Diving course this year, because I can't get anywhere where it would be affordable, but the Asgard sails out of Dublin and Cork on two of its voyages this September. Those I can get to, and four hundred euro isn't too much to pay to learn something about tall ships and how they're sailed. Unlike a sail training voyage on the impressive Stavros S. Niarchos or the Prince William, it won't quite bankrupt me.
But I'll only be able to go if I don't have to do repeats. So here's hoping I haven't failed any of my exams, and won't fail tomorrow's. Cross your fingers for me, would you?
I am fascinated by knowledge, and eager in learning, but poor at studying: for the last few days - weeks, if I'm to be honest - I've taken rather to ignoring the world; watching Farscape and Stargate DVDs rather than hitting the books: retreating, if you will, from reality. I can do nothing productive, can barely even exercise, barely communicate, without feeling an excreble paralysis or a paralysising isolation. Of late, I've been entirely too afraid.
But tomorrow I do the final exam of the year, and then I'm free. Free to exercise, free to work, free to attempt to learn to write again. Free, I suppose, to learn to be again, instead of being continually in suspense.
Anticipation's a bitch.
It's summer. Tonight, for the first time, I've noticed the pale blue shading to yellow at the horizon after sunset, and felt real summer warmth. Which is nice, you know, but I imagine it's been around for awhile: I haven't exactly been paying attention.
The Dublin Maritime Festival took place at the weekend. The tall ships sailed into the Liffey on Friday, and out again on Monday. They're an amazing sight, all immensity and grace, and yet, at the same time, so fragile compared to the expanse across which they sail.
I've applied to do a sail training course aboard the Asgard II. I need to do more strange and interesting things while I still can. I can't do an Open Water Diving course this year, because I can't get anywhere where it would be affordable, but the Asgard sails out of Dublin and Cork on two of its voyages this September. Those I can get to, and four hundred euro isn't too much to pay to learn something about tall ships and how they're sailed. Unlike a sail training voyage on the impressive Stavros S. Niarchos or the Prince William, it won't quite bankrupt me.
But I'll only be able to go if I don't have to do repeats. So here's hoping I haven't failed any of my exams, and won't fail tomorrow's. Cross your fingers for me, would you?
