Mired in Chatterjee's thoughts on Gandhian philosophy. No matter how much classes are important, when a topic doesn't grab me, I find it utterly impossible to care about it. Never mind the objective importance of focusing-studying-doingwell-getgoodgrades-findafuture-achievesomeunattainableimaginarybenchmarkofsuccess. If only all my courses were as small, discussion-based and personable as my honours seminar.

...is both an accurate representation of my state of mind AND a bunch of self-pitying crap. Saying "I wish I were the kind of person who took big risks and did ridiculous insane things involving climbing buildings in the middle of the night or wandering to unknown parts of the city on a lark and hitch-hiking through South America" is all well and good, but since there's nothing really stopping me but the inside of my head and abstact expectations, the sentiments are pointless. Because if I really did wish that at the core of myself, I would do it. Neh?

Pointless navel-gazing. Aspiring to be more interesting is no replacement for actually being moreso.

Still stuck halfway through The Cairo Trilogy. Have time to read, but am wasting it not studying for aforementioned exam.