Sitting in Economics...
Walking in the direction of the endless hall of the second floor of the campus feels worthless. The bright incandescent light, the white parallel walls that don’t say anything, the coldness in the building…it is all organized, manipulated, stated; I don’t belong here. The class begins. The teacher starts talking about how the Fed has cut interest rates in order to impose an expansionary fiscal policy that would create money, put money into the economic system, which in cause will slow down or stop the recession that we are going through. He said it was pointless though, because apparently he is an expert. But now my pencil falls, in the middle of the class, in the middle of nowhere, where we are. The reaction hits, I put all my vigor in the thought, I compete against my own will, go down, and seize the pen, which was waiting for the right occasion to escape. My head then falls against one of those miserable walls. The wall rejects me, the pencil too. My eyes start to impose, they don’t like hearing all of this nonsense talking, they dislike the feeling of being tough unimportant things, lies, and they don’t like to be undermined.
So I wait for the right occasion to liberate my mind, to fly somewhere else where the walls aren’t white and parallel and straight and tall. I go to that part of my mind where there’s no reason, where things don’t necessarily make sense. And here I stay, I see the person that’s sitting behind me here, she seems to be in the same state of mine, I am relieved. She pulls out a notebook and starts writing, she vigorously writes, so intensively. The power in her hand takes over her; she struggles, but keeps writing. The blond hair on her face now blows against her black-painted eyes, cupid eyes. She looks at me, and smiles. I return the smile, and believe her. I believe her passion, the power of these true things, these true feelings. And she believes me too, she also believes how inconsiderate and repugnant supply and demand could be, how the consumer surplus is a total waste of people’s energy and time, how the allocation of resources is so unfair since not everyone really gets the same amount of anything, even though we’re all living in the same planet, under the same natural resources. And she blushes, she reddens because the feeling is mutual, because we both think that the ideals of economics go against our own, and we cover it with intelligence, knowledge and some self-control. Now my pen falls again, only that this time I don’t care. I let it be.
The teacher talks. He forcefully says: “It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, of the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from the regard to their own interest” –Adam Smith. He says how the so-called “father of economics” put all of these words together, but how everyone could’ve done that. And I believe him too. He wants change and I can tell. But the change starts from within, and he is unhappy, he lies to himself because of all of these nonsense views about the world, the false perspective that economics is a social science that carries morals, because I truly believe it does not.
After navigating minds, I come back to my sit, where everything was just as I left them. I look around, my pencil on the floor, the impacted faces of everyone that eats the lecture, the presentation that just ended. I look back, the girl glances at me, she is back too. I get up, grab my pencil, and head to the door.
Life isn’t always fair…suck it up! – L-C
So I wait for the right occasion to liberate my mind, to fly somewhere else where the walls aren’t white and parallel and straight and tall. I go to that part of my mind where there’s no reason, where things don’t necessarily make sense. And here I stay, I see the person that’s sitting behind me here, she seems to be in the same state of mine, I am relieved. She pulls out a notebook and starts writing, she vigorously writes, so intensively. The power in her hand takes over her; she struggles, but keeps writing. The blond hair on her face now blows against her black-painted eyes, cupid eyes. She looks at me, and smiles. I return the smile, and believe her. I believe her passion, the power of these true things, these true feelings. And she believes me too, she also believes how inconsiderate and repugnant supply and demand could be, how the consumer surplus is a total waste of people’s energy and time, how the allocation of resources is so unfair since not everyone really gets the same amount of anything, even though we’re all living in the same planet, under the same natural resources. And she blushes, she reddens because the feeling is mutual, because we both think that the ideals of economics go against our own, and we cover it with intelligence, knowledge and some self-control. Now my pen falls again, only that this time I don’t care. I let it be.
The teacher talks. He forcefully says: “It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, of the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from the regard to their own interest” –Adam Smith. He says how the so-called “father of economics” put all of these words together, but how everyone could’ve done that. And I believe him too. He wants change and I can tell. But the change starts from within, and he is unhappy, he lies to himself because of all of these nonsense views about the world, the false perspective that economics is a social science that carries morals, because I truly believe it does not.
After navigating minds, I come back to my sit, where everything was just as I left them. I look around, my pencil on the floor, the impacted faces of everyone that eats the lecture, the presentation that just ended. I look back, the girl glances at me, she is back too. I get up, grab my pencil, and head to the door.
Life isn’t always fair…suck it up! – L-C
No comments:
Post a Comment