Mathias

Intellect, eh?

Whaddup with that?

I’m always being pestered with questions about what I’m going to do next. Don’t get me wrong, the questions are normal and within what is considered sane and acceptable, but they always have this nagging subclause. «When’re you starting med school?»

That’s annoying.

People seem to be under the impression that I’m smart. Intelligent. Capable.
In fact, it seems like quite a number of people are labouring under this misapprehension.

Surely, an intelligent person realizes, that I’m neither competent nor smart, and that any such assumption is – quite frankly – ridiculous. Furthermore, the prevailing notion that I’ll go into med school is laughable. Why does it exist? From what weirdish point did it first spawn? I could probably do my part to kill off the idea, but for most of the time, it’s a lot easier to just say «sure, med school, eventually», nod my head and go with it.

How is me being an asshat, conducive to the idea, that I’m clever?

Yeah, I had to get that out of my system.

If I’m clever or not, or if I’ll go into med. or not, I’m pretty sure it’s none of the village’s business. Although, I’ll probably announce it is a pompous and poopheadish fashion when the time is ripe and the fruit right.

Whoa, right?

Right off the bat, a few years ago, while in school, I became bored with the stale air of debate, the trite whining of the unchallenged, and the lack of any incendiary personalities. From boredom often comes crazy, and this was my cue.

When you entered this class, you’d sense a waft of leftie opinions, which is fairly common at this age, location and socioeconomic class. In casual conversations, most people seemed to be either left or left-leaning, just without affilliation ( so room for all kinds of remarks ). The stage was already set, I just had to bring a of petrol and some matches, and this could actually become a productive and enlightening environment.

As usual, my reaction was a gross exaggeration, and completely out of proportion to what the situation might have needed.
Wanting to squish several flies in a one blow, I joined a party.

I joined FpU

In FpU, I could learn more about their and FrPs politics, ideas, and hopefully have even more enlightening chats with fellow members. oh, and my original plot thing. Which I forgot after a week or so. But that one week was amusing.

Now, membership in such an illustrious party, carries a certain stigma, and I had absorbed enough information to satisfy me, I was done. except that I wasn’t really done, and ended up on the membership roster until this very month.
This prolonged presence and affiliation with the party, was it that has now tarnished my reputation. Now my rumoured queerness, not my unreliable mental state, not my generally rude and distasteful behaviour, but because of a random political affilliation, born out of boredom and curiosity. intrigued.

So, yes. I’ve been a member of FpU – the youthful arm of FrP – for the past two years. I’m now done, and can focus on things I care about. Things I think are of importance to Norway. Mock me if you must. I realize it may have been arrogant. It was definitely rash, and I’ve moved on from that weird and surreal experience.

As I begin writing this, it is Monday, the 5th of October, of the Gregorian calendar.

A dinner jacket hangs over a tilted chair, resting against a shelf.
Chess pieces are strewn lightly across the floor, but the chessboard is nowhere to be found.

Beside the sound of the odd car driving past, the monotonous humm of the various devices and the rhythmic beating of whatever dance album is in the CD player, there is a distinct sound of cursing and pencils thrown about.

It is in this room, lit by a solitary table lamp, that your truly is undergoing a series of tedious exercises that could have been done with two years ago.

It is in this room, lit by a solitary table lamp, that I will be grinding through every single exercise in the book, to be blinded by the folly of my ways.

Until my exams.

Further whingings concerning my self-inflicted predicament will be presented in GLORIOUSLY LACONIC STEREO

OH CHEEESES! POPSICLES ON THE TARMAC!

Spent a full hour to realize that 2u+u=3u Damnation I didn’t see it.