(no subject)
I have this memory from high school. I can't remember what year it was - maybe junior year. My mom and I were driving to somewhere for something - I can't remember at all. But we took a detour in Columbia. It was in the spring, and classes were in full swing. It was a dreary day. My mom and I felt slightly panicked when herds of serious-faced students prevented us from effectively navigating around campus. I remember kinda thinking, "So this is college..." checking myself, wondering how I'd fit into the crowd. I don't feel like I ever really got there. Like I tripped as soon as the gun went off. That primitive thrill - the one when you can feel the vibrations as everyone's feet pound onto the earth - I never really experienced that, in terms of college at least. I think I knew that I would never get that the moment I decided to come here. I've been stuck on this for a long time, really before anything else happened in my life. It's going to be difficult, but I need to do this. Whatever the loathing I have for all of this, my mind eventually goes back to things that really aren't so relevant anymore - they feel immensely relevant at times, but probably only because I think about them so much. Stupid little mistakes - mostly because I was trying to prove a point one way or another . By transferring, maybe I'll break the circle. With some luck.