homehomehomehome
I am home. Indeed. For only six days more. Call.
I really like who I am right now. But at the same time lately I've really been missing the old me. The old me from sophomore and junior year. Where I was excited about everything and naive about even more. What is it about aging that dulls the passions of the heart and deadens the aspirations of the soul? Is it that as we grow and learn of more hurt, we close ourselves off so as not to risk being hurt in these newly learned ways? Because I hate that kind of classical conditioning where you are hurt and therefore close off, never to be open in the same way again.
Also, my fear that I would close myself off into books instead of wanting to talk to people has become a reality.
On the bright side, packing is going well. And at least I am reading a good book. That's always nice to disappear into.
I really like who I am right now. But at the same time lately I've really been missing the old me. The old me from sophomore and junior year. Where I was excited about everything and naive about even more. What is it about aging that dulls the passions of the heart and deadens the aspirations of the soul? Is it that as we grow and learn of more hurt, we close ourselves off so as not to risk being hurt in these newly learned ways? Because I hate that kind of classical conditioning where you are hurt and therefore close off, never to be open in the same way again.
Also, my fear that I would close myself off into books instead of wanting to talk to people has become a reality.
On the bright side, packing is going well. And at least I am reading a good book. That's always nice to disappear into.