Sometimes, when my eyes get too tired, I lie in bed and listen to podcasts. Then I’ll fall asleep with the phone in my hand, and the person will continue going on about whatever it is he has to say. And later in my sleep, I’ll hear him again, but he doesn’t make sense anymore.

Today I collected my essay with apprehension. Afterwards, the day went sideways. I took a cold shower and a short nap when I reached home. Things are only just beginning to orientate themselves to the plane; but it is too late, the day is already expiring.

Found one of my professors on Facebook. Looked through an album titled: Dr. A’s Cabinet of Curiosities. It was all fairly humorous. How nice it is to appreciate the humanity of your professors; to see that they are only as human as yourself; they have hobbies, they have people they love, they have friends to be absurd with, they have their own jokes, they have holidays and picture albums of them, they have their opinions on claptrap, they have pets and plants, and so on.

Does feeling that you’re a detestable person make you a detestable person? Supposing you stopped pondering the possibility of yourself being a detestable person, expel it entirely from your mind, would you not be detestable? It could be that you’re only as detestable as you imagine yourself to be.





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