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Monday, October 17, 2005
"Oh God! There's nothing we can do. What can we do..."Isn't it ironic when you're sitting at home in succession for a full 7 days, when it has been nothing short of glorious sunshine outside and you're seated in front of your laptop, and you're facing the full-paned window that stretches from the floor to the ceiling and you can just imagine the radiant sunshine striking your skin when you're writing an essay on the futility of the human condition and how Man is ultimately alone in his solitude and his futile quest against the oppressions of the society that governs him, and the one thing that Man fundamentally fears is death? So why do we fear failing our essays, not meeting datelines and getting caught for plagiarism? Shouldn't we be out enjoying life and living it up when that's the very thing that we are writing about at the very moment in time?Ahhh, the bitter-sweetness of such irony. Brings a smile to my face despite the darkness looming in my academic horizon. I love you Ionesco."What good are bullets against the resistance of an infinitely stubborn will!"
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