the misplacement of the female beatnik
it was as i realized the sheer stupidity of the fact that the gap is selling 6 colors of the warmest jacket and in colored pairs (blue & red, grey & camo, black & navy) they are three different prices -- something hit me.
something that said "what the hell are you doing here?"
something that said "the first 20 pages of your thesis would be due friday."
not many people can say they lived their thesis.
not many people enter their senior year having fully read over 15 sources they know they will use.
not many people go to san francisco and roam the city being a beatnik with 5 boys
not many people find the closest living substitute for their primary thesis author and date him (knowing full well that Jack Kerouac was a womanizing alcoholic asshole)
in my last days in my apartment, as i tried to rewrite my lost bibliographic stuff, i accidentally wrote several pages of thesis. i just couldn't stop talking.
i could have written my thesis in my sleep, if i was sleeping.
and now, when i think about it, i cringe.
i don't know if i'm going to be able to go back to bryn mawr next fall and restart the same thesis.
i don't know what i'd want to write about either.
i don't know how i'd handle seeing the same professors and trying all over again.
i worked my ass off to get into bryn mawr.
and i really want my diploma to be from there.
and i really really don't want to even go to MTSU this spring.
but i don't know if i can go back. i don't know if i want to.
the life i had is over. i'm not the same person.
and i hate the gap.
one day at a time...
something that said "what the hell are you doing here?"
something that said "the first 20 pages of your thesis would be due friday."
not many people can say they lived their thesis.
not many people enter their senior year having fully read over 15 sources they know they will use.
not many people go to san francisco and roam the city being a beatnik with 5 boys
not many people find the closest living substitute for their primary thesis author and date him (knowing full well that Jack Kerouac was a womanizing alcoholic asshole)
in my last days in my apartment, as i tried to rewrite my lost bibliographic stuff, i accidentally wrote several pages of thesis. i just couldn't stop talking.
i could have written my thesis in my sleep, if i was sleeping.
and now, when i think about it, i cringe.
i don't know if i'm going to be able to go back to bryn mawr next fall and restart the same thesis.
i don't know what i'd want to write about either.
i don't know how i'd handle seeing the same professors and trying all over again.
i worked my ass off to get into bryn mawr.
and i really want my diploma to be from there.
and i really really don't want to even go to MTSU this spring.
but i don't know if i can go back. i don't know if i want to.
the life i had is over. i'm not the same person.
and i hate the gap.
one day at a time...