Journal · philosophy · study

Finals #4: Statistics and Feelings

This week I’m facing the finals of the last year of Basic English Linguistics and Didactics studies. Two birds with one stone, I’m going to write about the exams as a resume for preparing to the modules, as a personal comment on the level and as a whole impression of the year or three years…

Today it’s the turn of general statistics. It is quite easy; in fact, I used to study economics in university that has waay waaay more difficult statistics than we had now. Statistics is roughly mathematics, I have no much to tell about it, we deal with scores as variables and follow formulas of mathematicians to compute mean scores, mediums and other tricky playing numbers deriving from other numbers. Personally, I appreciate maths cuz it’s exact; however, in long terms, it is quite frustrating to deal with deal with and deal with numbers that exactly don’t exist only on paper.

Numbers are just one of the causes why I left Hungary and why I changed my study field from economics to languages, and then I met the numbers again. Indeed, there are things you can’t escape… as I met love again. Indeed, there are things you can’t escape.

Love is just like mathematics with extracting logic from the formula… Love’s never been logical, only complicated.

In the most cases when I tell people that “I have no feelings…”, they dont believe. They may be right; however, it’s sure that I feel myself empty and I don’t understand feelings at all. How? Maybe it’s about the past… My mother raised me in an emotional terror of nonsense shouting and frenzy with flying plates and spending days imprisoned in my room. If it wouldn’t be enough as dark background of solitude, insanity, false religion, suicide attempt, then what others could kill the ability of feeling?
I raised myself… and I raised myself on the principles of feeling Nothing, because it can save me from wrong. However, falling in love always made me some idiot biological-unconscious-devilish feelings that I couldn’t ignore. That says: “There’s still hope” “She cares about me“She’s carrying me into stability and defends me from the wrong.
How stupid! How deceitful! How scary!

>>>Life itself is the wrong. Allah said in His Noble Book: The mankind is created only into misery. /90:4 Quran/
What I need more? I live this life as a game full with guaranteed miseries… I try to avoid its traps; however, it is kinda written already if I’ll loose it or will win.

In this complicated storm of my mind, I just say sometimes: I need to shut it down, I need peace even if by ingoring the whole world that sounds impossible… But I DID! I did it and I used to do it before… It was so good, so simple… the silent and peace in my mind… As if a joint of weed pumping in my lungs or a half bottle Royal vodka streaming in my veins…
Then. She rushed into this dellirium. Told me that I’m childish and she needs me back as I used to be. But she doesn’t need me, it’s only a play of words, an illusion affirming: Yes, we are created you in misery…
But there are others who need me for real. Love is not real. But responsibility is. Statistics is as easy like a kidtoy-for-autists compared to my mind, my thinking, my principles and my background. It’s hard to bear them alone; however, I’m afraid they would hurt others… Cuz they do hurt me.

May God accept my good intentions about everything I do… and forgive me that I torture my soul. I keep closing people out of my life who don’t deserve to be in it. And thanks God for those who are in it.

Next exam is pragmatics at 9 o’clock.

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