Out Of Anxiety...

I write a post.

Sometimes I wish I didn't obsess over my essays. This obsessive desire to understand everything. Not everything in the sense of the world entire. I just feel the need to tackle every nuance of an argument. It kills, it really does. If Bakhtin were alive, I would feel like hurling him against a wall, grabbing him by the collar and asking him, "what are you talking about?" And then I'd want to tell him what I thought. But then of course this is all hypothetical. I would never do such a thing in real life. The most you'd ever get, say, if I thought you were talking nonsense is a downward look, an enigmatic smile followed by lots of fidgeting, if you're long-winded. If I thought the argument was worth following I would be animated, but make counter-arguments in a fairly oblique manner. If I didn't care for you at all, I would fall asleep or read a book. I would like to say I'm too well-brought up for that, but no...I would read a book, as I do sometimes during Film Criticism presentations (why do people think characterisation is an important category? We are not taking O-levels anymore. Ish)

Tracking self-development: I guess this oblique and non-commital manner of arguing comes from the terrible quarrels I got into with my friends when debating critical issues, philosophical or religious. People take things so very personally. Especially in girls' school. In some ways I hated my final two years in a girls' school. In other ways it did me good. At least I hope I came out learning to be a little more sensitive. Now I'm finding that balance, learning again how to hold my own in an argument and not fearing poking holes in other people's arguments.
I love university because now I don't always have to invent another person and hold internal conversations on issues (it's as bad as playing chess against yourself; even moving the pieces unconsciously I ended up with mirrored positions. Believe me, I've tried). Just that the people worth holding conversations with are still few and far between. That's the only thing I miss about not going to a top-notch school in humanities. It's not the teaching, but the concentration of minds...all the same, yet again it's probably better in that I can involve myself in a whole lot of other things and leave mental meanderings aside. It's probably healthier.