Tofu and Difficulty
This is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I have had numerous conversations over the past few days about grad school and how bloody ridiculous the pressure, as well as my daily feelings of academic inadequacies.
I'm putting a lot of the pressure on myself, I realize this. But it's in my nature. And I'm sure Hegel or Kant or Rousseau or Goethe would have a problem with blaming it on my nature. These four men have invaded my life (and it's only been three weeks). They've taken up residence in my consciousness, so it's to a point where I go to sleep thinking of them.
I wake up in the middle of the night considering Sturm und Drang's (look it up -- I had to) influence on Goethe's protagonist, the paradox that is Olauduh Equiano's enslavement, Hegel and I don't know what, and man's inability to put nature above himself. Yes HIMself. I go to the philosophy section in bookstores now to try and find secondary sources. I get excited when I see them. For instance, I bought one just today about Hegel: Reason and Revolution: Hegel and the Rise of Social Theory. I'm big on him now because I'm presenting on his Philosophy of History in two and a half weeks.
The people who write the introductions to his books say that he is impossible to read. And I haven't even mentioned the paper that's due on Tuesday. That's why I'm still up at 3:40 a.m. I feel guilty if I go to sleep. It's not all stressful. I'm eating macrobiotic food. I found a place in the Village by NYU's (grrrrrr) library, in which I spend an inordinate amount of time.
Temple in the Village is its name and it's cheap; the Tofu Jim is really really good. I'm not sure who Jim is, but I'm choosing to believe he's not in the actual tofu. I haven't really done a whole lot of "going out." I think I might go to Meow Mix soon. Meow Mix is the unnecessarily named lesbian bar. I think I've been there before during one of my previous visits. I met with my sociology professor on Wednesday.
We discussed white privilege, which is to be the topic of my 30-page paper. She's calling them essays. I've never written a 30-page essay. Five pages, yes. Thirty pages, not in my lifetime. I guess there's a first for everything.
Like walking down a relatively desolate Broadway the two and a half miles to my place. That was fun. This is a very lonely city anyway, despite the millions of people who trample on its bedrock. When you throw night and lower Manhattan into the equation, it becomes even more lonely. And it's a really good way to clear your mind. I need to go to sleep right now but I will try to write more often. And I still haven't played with pictures on this thing yet, as you can see. I can't promise much.
