Unabated Truth
The inevitable time of enrollment had finally come and after months and months (okay, just two) of basically being a pig, I was careened off to my university with the expectation of walking for miles and miles (it did not disappoint). It's hard not to let my mind drift away with all the walking I was doing. And it usually drifted to one thing -- the fact that this could have been my last year in college (as I'm writing this my heart is tearing apart). The truth is that I try my best not to think about it because as soon as I do, this huge wave of disappointment in the form of nausea usually takes over. It starts at the pit of my stomach and flips me right over. Usually my day goes sour from that, because then I'd start thinking about everyone else and their take on my situation. I'd think that my heart couldn't break any more, but it will always surprise me on how it always does so.
I usually berate myself after that because, really, what can I do? I was foolish and misguided and I should just forgive myself for it. But I just can't bring myself to. I can't stop dwelling. It's like dwelling and brooding is all I know. Shifting was supposed to be this big relief, but who was I kidding? I just saw it as an escape. And to be real honest, it was not an escape from Math. Math was the excuse. It was just so easy with people assuming. Math gave off that general feel of not wanting to be studied, so I just let them think that because explaining is such a tiresome thing to do. Quite frankly, I don't even understand it myself.
I'm trying to imagine myself in the future and I can't see myself. Not at as an Interior Designer. Not as anything. Sometimes, I look around and see just how inspired everyone is in my course and I'm thinking to myself, what am I doing here. What the fuck am I doing here? Of course I can't just shift out again, because then where would I go? And three years wasted is quite enough. So I'd just swallow whatever this is I'm feeling and design rooms like I'm supposed to hoping I'd be great at it someday. Hoping I'd love it the way every one else does.
Assuming I'm going to live to become 80, you can assume this is my quarter-life crisis thing. Or something.
(Anyway, I just had to write this down. I guess admitting this to myself is Step One to whatever goal I have in mind.)
I usually berate myself after that because, really, what can I do? I was foolish and misguided and I should just forgive myself for it. But I just can't bring myself to. I can't stop dwelling. It's like dwelling and brooding is all I know. Shifting was supposed to be this big relief, but who was I kidding? I just saw it as an escape. And to be real honest, it was not an escape from Math. Math was the excuse. It was just so easy with people assuming. Math gave off that general feel of not wanting to be studied, so I just let them think that because explaining is such a tiresome thing to do. Quite frankly, I don't even understand it myself.
I'm trying to imagine myself in the future and I can't see myself. Not at as an Interior Designer. Not as anything. Sometimes, I look around and see just how inspired everyone is in my course and I'm thinking to myself, what am I doing here. What the fuck am I doing here? Of course I can't just shift out again, because then where would I go? And three years wasted is quite enough. So I'd just swallow whatever this is I'm feeling and design rooms like I'm supposed to hoping I'd be great at it someday. Hoping I'd love it the way every one else does.
Assuming I'm going to live to become 80, you can assume this is my quarter-life crisis thing. Or something.
(Anyway, I just had to write this down. I guess admitting this to myself is Step One to whatever goal I have in mind.)
Why don't you try being a writer instead? You have a wide vocabulary, and your grammar is excellent! I can see you as a writer. Don't worry. You're young. You have a lot of time to find your true calling. :)
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