for my life until this year I had always preached with words how my memory was terrible, then in this year I got sick of playing victim.
it was an absolute struggle trying to conform to university requirements and being able to juggle three textbooks worth of information on top of lectures and everything else I tried to be in between, when I tried to accomplish this objective with a terribly tragic amount of faith in my own abilities of course it all broke down. But after years of complaining it started making less sense to me. Why would I even need to remember this? Why do I want to remember this specific page 91 of one of hundreds of books I'll read in my life? Wouldn't staying stagnant in the information i received ages ago be the opposite of growth?
So I attribute it to anxiety towards my own existance rather than a defficiency in a skill, for instance: why is it if I were restless in night and scared of day, my ability to recall anything traumatic would be so much more vivid than the things I desire to commit to memory? Because it's so much more important to me? who knows. but I think it's clearer to me that alot of things I feel as if I want to remember, dont actually matter, because if they did then I would remember it.
watever, it's all kinda watever anyways.
this book was very sweet, i'd say that due to the nature of the way the book talks to you as if like a teacher, as a student I only sit there to listen and learn. So it's not like I really do have anything to mention about it, rather that; should these lessons prove to stand grounds in my own life, I will trust in myself to recall it when the time comes. I'd like to say im pretty good at dreaming
21/10/2025
"even the devil appears kind behind the right wording" peakkkkkkk