Ok – this has nothing to do with: exercise, nutrition, running, swimming, activity, or the resulting quiet contemplation or random rambling – it has nothing to do with anything usually discussed in this blog.
However, it is 8:49AM – and I have, in my posession (saved on my computor, and soon to be on a memeory stick, as well as printed out, and in my inbox!) – two completed dissertations. With references. Arranged alphabetically. With headers.
8,000 words of total twaddle. One is about obstructions to writing characters in the novels of Virginia Woolf, and what we can establish about her own attitudes to successful writing. The other is about the realtionship between humankind and God, particuarly in the writing of Augustine and John Donne, and the way we two legged little individuals use our understanding of God to define ourselves, and how culture and institution affect this.
My relationship with English Literature is almost as troublesome as that between Donne and God (the bloke WANTED to suffer… so much…). Sometimes, I detest everything about it. I think it is pointless- what good does my writing an essay about some dead blokes rambling do in the world? Will it feed the hungry? No. Will it nurse the depressed? No. Will it inform people about anything they really need to know? No. My essay will do nothing to help anyone. So why don’t I pack it in?
Some little part of me is in love with literature. A part of me swells with excitment when some metaphorical, abstract, philisophical argument seems to come true, or a piece of a puzzle pops into place – I feel I understand someone better, or maybe I understand human beings a little more.
Lets just hope, one day, I can finish this degree and use a few of the skills i’ve learnt to spread some words that might actually do someone, somewhere, a little bit of good…
Going to wrap up warm, and face the cold now to cycle to the pool. Wish me luck..