This week back at school was a bit of a mess. It was my first time back in so unstructured a structured environment for 8 months. I’m not as stressed or irritable as I was at CNBC but I’m definitely.. being someway.
I’m taking courses that I reckon will help develop the way I process things, i.e. improve my thinking process such that when there’s new information or I’m trying to pick up a skill, bits and pieces can easily be sort into boxes and form connections with other things I’d learnt prior. That’s the theory, the reality, however, might not be as pretty. I’m enjoying each course so far, but I’m a little nervous about having dropped existentialism in favour of computing. I definitely have an interest, but this is the first time I’m really worrying about the risk taking a class could be to my grades – I’m in a class consisting entirely of computer science majors. Oh, I’m terrible at maths.
Apart from that, my exchange application to Boston was accepted. I was keen to go until I started considering my parents, the money, the prospect of being half the world away from everything I know, and being frivolous with my time. I’ll give it another day of mulling over, but I’m sure I’ll drop it once I can convince my parents to let me travel without having to list a keg party as a prerequisite.
And today, well, we’re not even into most of the day. I did have a great time at the wet market, though. There’s a vegetable stall in Tekka that plays old jazz records on a loop. Watching people fish for greens with ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ as a backing track is pretty good as Saturday mornings go. I didn’t get a video but here’s a picture of fish:
And close to this stall is a mutton butcher’s. I don’t eat meat, but that didn’t prevent me from gawking. He’s worked with meat for so much of his life that he intuitively knows and feels marbling. He cuts through bone like he’s studied the animal and understands it from the inside out. While I’m not a fan of the trade, the butcher’s ethic is something to behold.
Or this stolen from Cranky Ethicist, himself borrowing from Kafka:
“How miserable is my self-knowledge when compared, say, to my knowledge of my room … And why? There is no observation of the inner world as there is of the outer. At least descriptive psychology is probably on the whole an anthropomorphism, a gnawing away at the limits. The inner world can only be lived, it cannot be described. – Psychology is the description of the reflection of the earthly world in the surface of heaven or, more correctly, the description of a reflection which we who are absorbed completely by the earth think up for ourselves, for no reflection takes place at all, we see only earth wherever we may look.”