I'm not all that a determined person. Yesterday, I decided to throw caution to the winds and give up on studying. Not so much letting go of an exercise in futility (basically it means anything you don't get results for, which makes a lot of things) than a temporary banishment of the wretched books. Let the dice of fate, destiny and whatever powers that be govern our puny human lives play it out. Resigning to fate as they put it. And not for the first time, it occurred to me (not your usual blinding realisation, more of the slow, dawning kind that creeps up upon you) that this was but one of the numerous struggles I would have to face in the twisty, tiresome and best of all, uncertain path to Honours. So this act of giving up now could exact a barrage of repercussions on my studies; just when you thought the uphill struggle couldn't get any worse, a rockfall stares you in the face. 1 to Murphy's Law and 0 to you.
What can I do but to grin and bear it, I've made my bed and so must lie in it. Macbeth had the right mindset, even if it stemmed from the inappropriate source, resolute in his wrongdoings to the last. I can at least admire him for that. Doggedly do I forge on for I am in books. Stepped in so far, that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go over.