WARNING: The following is preceeded by a quote from LoTR.
And their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed; and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.
Ok, so I'm a science kid. I'm in biology. My world is made up of equations I don't really understand and a lot of incredibly specific facts I don't care about and multiple choice exams that somehow manage to own at least 3/4 of the student population. Please stop for a moment and re-read that last fact.
I AM IN THE AREA OF STUDY THAT RUINED THE JOY OF MULTIPLE CHOICE EXAMS.
Moving on.
Going into university I was incredibly conflicted over, well, what I wanted to be when I grew up. For a confused kid like me, the sciences - specifically veterinary medicine - seemed to make the most sense, just because I want to have a horse someday and anybody who knows anything about horses realizes that they cost about as much as three children, give or take a conjoined twin. So I went merrily on my way, naturally without actually bothering to look at what I'd have to, you know, study.
Yeah so, it took me about three weeks of University to decide vet school wasn't my cup of tea. Big deal. I move on. But I guess where I'm going with this is, well, english has always been a deep-rooted passion of mine. I find words and phrases and books and plots beautiful and moving and glorious. Well, not all books. I do find Margaret Atwood novels make excellent fuel for a campfire in a pinch. Anyway, my point is I can't quite seem to figure where I gave up passion for practicality. It's not that I don't like the sciences. I do. I just don't love them. DNA and genes just don't move me, even if they have awesome names like sonic hedgehog (true story).
With that said, I still think I made the right choice. It seems impossible to justify going into english. And that confuses me. I am such an emotionally driven person, shouldn't I currently be taking english on a romantic european getaway with plans to settle down with a white picket fence and maybe a dog? But I'm not and I have no desire to. I've never really even questioned my science decision. But I can't read that passage up top even a single time without that tell-tale tingle running down my spine and goosebumps covering my arms.
Also I realized right away that 'tell tale tingle' was alliteration.
Seriously.
Ok, so I'm a science kid. I'm in biology. My world is made up of equations I don't really understand and a lot of incredibly specific facts I don't care about and multiple choice exams that somehow manage to own at least 3/4 of the student population. Please stop for a moment and re-read that last fact.
I AM IN THE AREA OF STUDY THAT RUINED THE JOY OF MULTIPLE CHOICE EXAMS.
Moving on.
Going into university I was incredibly conflicted over, well, what I wanted to be when I grew up. For a confused kid like me, the sciences - specifically veterinary medicine - seemed to make the most sense, just because I want to have a horse someday and anybody who knows anything about horses realizes that they cost about as much as three children, give or take a conjoined twin. So I went merrily on my way, naturally without actually bothering to look at what I'd have to, you know, study.
Yeah so, it took me about three weeks of University to decide vet school wasn't my cup of tea. Big deal. I move on. But I guess where I'm going with this is, well, english has always been a deep-rooted passion of mine. I find words and phrases and books and plots beautiful and moving and glorious. Well, not all books. I do find Margaret Atwood novels make excellent fuel for a campfire in a pinch. Anyway, my point is I can't quite seem to figure where I gave up passion for practicality. It's not that I don't like the sciences. I do. I just don't love them. DNA and genes just don't move me, even if they have awesome names like sonic hedgehog (true story).
With that said, I still think I made the right choice. It seems impossible to justify going into english. And that confuses me. I am such an emotionally driven person, shouldn't I currently be taking english on a romantic european getaway with plans to settle down with a white picket fence and maybe a dog? But I'm not and I have no desire to. I've never really even questioned my science decision. But I can't read that passage up top even a single time without that tell-tale tingle running down my spine and goosebumps covering my arms.
Also I realized right away that 'tell tale tingle' was alliteration.
Seriously.