And here we are, once again, once more in pain that is as always, the inflicted upon the self variety.
IRONIC, YET NOT!
Although, pain is not always self-inflicted, but sometimes it is.
The things that we do for science… the things that we do…
Whilst at university yesterday, I had to collect data for a statistics assignment that I’m currently doing.
The data that I was collecting was the time it took me to do a sprint across a cricket pitch.
And of course I had to do this eight times.
Because it felt like an appropriate way to begin that sentence.
So, I did this sprint eight times and I did it barefoot as well, because I felt that running in boots would be more tiring and reduce my average speed.
If it was the case, I do not know.
Suffice to say, I’m not as fast as I thought I would be, but probably a lot faster than I should be.
I now have my data and I’m probably going to have to repeat it a few more times before I can truly say that I have enough data, but anyway…
It was neither fun nor boring. It just was.
Now I’m quite sore.
Today has been a day of feeling rather sore and in a fair bit of pain, but at the end of the day, I have to wear it as it was my choice to make and complaining about consequences that I should have been far more aware of than I was at the time is only a silly thing to do.
Hence why I’m going to do just that.
Why the hell am I in pain? What did I do to deserve this?
Oh cruel, damned fate. I cannot believe that such a thing would befall my already tragedy-filled life, increasing the amount of misery and torture carried upon the burden that my weary soul must endure for an eternity beyond flesh.
Must I really be forced into feeling pain in the physical sense whenever I decide to move from a stationary position?
There are many cruel things out there, but surely there is nothing nearly as cruel as what I am forced to have in my life in this current point of time, as well as the point of time that had just passed a moment ago!
Surely there must be a way to find the source of the curse and thus undo the problem in a way, for I need to find why this has happened. I need to find the perpetrator.
And yet, I don’t know how, sop I must remain curled in the darkness, feeling as though nothingness has embraced my being as…
…No, I can’t keep this up. It’s far too melodramatic for me.
The pain is not pleasant, but there not much I can do about it other than rest and wait for it to pass.
Besides which, it was for science, so I’m happy.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 09:47:48
I don’t know where I was going with this.
I really have no idea.
With that being said, it is now written and sitting here for the viewing something.
Written at my (new) desk at home.