A hundred percent reason

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill

Fifteen percent concentrated power of will

Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain

And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!

~Fort Minor, Rember the Name

I can foresee hard work ahead for this summer: looking out the glass windows of the 4th floor of Snell Library while everybody else would be enjoying the golden sunshine and cloudless blue sky. The current gloomy weather and unstoppable rain only added thick layers to the feeling of imprisonment. MCAT in 58 days (minus the days in Greece cuz hell I ain’t gonna study there), until then, I want to put a lot of things, drama and gossip, fracas and temptations, into a box and lock them up in the back of my mind. I found that one box didn’t fit, so I found one, two, three more boxes until I am free of distractions and can focus a hundred percent. Hopefully I will remember to come out of this phase of seclusion and apathy. I don’t want to be another one of those insensitive pre-meds. But for now, excuse my nonchalant inattention.

That guy who literarily walked from CA to NY in 13 months, he wore out 15 pairs of sneakers. He started out a divorcee, around 400lbs and severely depressed. At the end, he was still divorced, still overweight at 300lbs, and it’s no guarantee depression will go away. Is his life better in anyway? There certainly will be no miracle or metamorphosis, he still has to deal with all that inescapable crap he had at home. What’s the point?

It’s a lie to say my mom is forcing me to do this because she thinks I would be happier to just graduate and get married (chuckles to that). Also a lie to say that I am doing this because I know I can. I really don’t know if I can do it, a month and a half of self-imposed discipline. It’s untrue to say that I love taking on the challenge. Who wouldn’t like for pies to fall out of the sky? At the bottom of it, I am scared and afraid of failure. Where is the courage, the stamina, the willpower to get me through this Puritan-like summer? I guess that would be the point of it, or a reason for any difficult undertaking: to find the source of “drive”.