ellibet

update upon completion: i was simply too damned self-conscious, before. i now only read what i want and when i want, and i don’t quibble too much about literary merit. i’ve stopped with the vicious cycle of questioning my motives for enjoyment – which always ended up inhibiting enjoyment anyways—and i am even convinced that being “in love with the idea” of something is only a less familiar, but just as legitimate, form of love; it is far from inherently ‘phony’ – only immature, and in need of greater familiarity with its object.

ha. no more pre-med for me.
empiricism is very tedious, labs give me headaches, and i feel terrible in comparison with all the starry-eyed, people-loving, idealistic kids who’ve dreamed of doctorhood since they could toddle. i’m just not that good.
besides, i suck at this whole empiricism thing. i’m a platonic one, by nature, and i want my fluffy “world of the forms” back, damnit.

Enough of vague and abstract sophistry!

I want to measure and quantify life with beakers and flasks! Empiricism’s the life for me.