Every Year Goes and Comes
I had some websites where I posted my diary here and there, but I have yet to continue any of them. If I had a physical diary, my journal would look like a cluster of pieces of paper. Why not? That is also a form of “diary”.
I had a meeting today with my colleagues, who started PhD one year earlier than me. We both strongly agreed that we both have a sort of burnout stage or had that stage, and that might be a part of the research. I didn’t say that I already had this emotional crisis for a long time, and I was holding a cliff using my last bit of energy. I could see this when I was trying to reorganise all my diaries in one place. I don’t know what to say. My diary is full of depressing expressions and exhaustingly dark feelings. It continued from 2016 and still it does. Even before I started to write this, I thought I didn’t know what to write unless the same emotions since 2016.
It was probably the same when I wrote my diary in my teenage time. But the only difference is that I no longer talk about fondness or love. I’m too exhausted to think about any other emotions besides exhaustion.
It is already 2023—surprisingly fast highway speed time. Who said that time is only in our mind? or brain? I no longer remember but at least there is three different types of time.
The time that I think I already experienced, which is different from the notion of the “past”, and the time that is that I’m currently experiencing with the layers of that I had already experienced, and the time that is only sensations governing the passing time. Where is the “present”? I don’t think there is “present” in limited human sense.
Then, what is this whole “new year” thing about?