Monday, 10 October 2016

I am dancing on a volcano.


My thoughts swirl inside of me like magma. I am dormant; I am in waiting.

It is 10:45pm. The glare of my computer screen casts artificial light over the work before me. The humble drone of The Maccabees filters into the night air through my open window, and the brisk October wind finds shelter inside. 

My mind dances restlessly with anticipation for news of the future. I feel the weight of my dreams in the pen I hold and in the words I read. The racing rhythms of my mind permeate the membrane of my every day. Often, the ambition hurts; I am terrified that I am falling in love with an intellectual pattern. 

Yet, I am my sole weapon in the battlefield of academia. I strive for academic achievement in the most archaic sense: I want genuine intellectual exchange; hands stained with the ink of ideas; dark circles undermining eyes glaring with curiosity. But I am not sure what will happen, what the outcome of this dormancy may be. After all, ambiguity is at the center of what is it to be human.

The ground may be rough, but the views imbue me with an unprecedented thrill. It is from this precarious, ambiguity-governed position - dancing on the peak of a volcano - that I fall upon a moment of consideration. Tapering behind me lies procrastination, university applications and the bittersweet haze of summer. Before me lie the ridges of hard work - the blueprint of success. Here, from my vantage point, absorbed in this moment of utter potential, I have a choice.

My mind pulses with desire and my body trembles.

I'm going with my head.

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