Aghhhh, going insane trying to write thesis, or, if truth be told, trying to start writing thesis. I have this sneaking suspicion that over the long months ahead, I won’t actually be seeking to improve my fundamentally flawed argument, but instead merely attempting to rationalise away its problems. If this is the case, the whole experience is nothing more than an internal rite of passage towards the acceptance of the crap thesis I will eventually submit. What is the point? If I was even vaguely able to learn from past failures, I would realise that I wasted the entirety of last semester having many random existential crises instead of doing work, which I eventually paid for trying to do all my coursework in about two weeks, triggering a minor nervous breakdown and a whole host of rash decisions I lived to regret. But early-twenties melancholy is actually quite a bit more fun (fun perhaps the wrong word) than doing work, so maybe I am on the right track after all.