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I've lost my touch in writing. Or more accurately, lost it to all the academic papers that I had to write these last few weeks. The brain cells that would normally be allocated to my recreational writing have instead been pushed toward the path of "school shit" and have been going down that path ever since like a trickle of water following the trail of previous droplets. It's a depressing sight to visualize but is nonetheless accurate. But I'm confident that that trail of brain cells will return to it's rightful path in a few days as my last major presentation of the semester is on Monday.
The thought of this first year of college finally coming to a close has me feeling a mix of emotions. I feel giddy, anxious, sad, and impatient all at the same time. Not one of my best concoctions when faced with a pretty large milestone in life but this year hadn't really been easy. I'm giddy thinking about finally being free of academic (and for the most part, social) responsibilities for the next few months, anxious for the result of my shifting plea, sad about the possibility of my grades not being as good as I expect due to some complications (i.e. shitty groupmates), and impatient for the final results of the last two.
Like I said, one of the things I'm sure about is that my recreational brain cells will be back on course in less than 96 hours. This, I undoubtedly feel excited about. The only emotion that's safe from the chaos cocktail mentioned above. I guess hope is another one that's safe because for some reason, regardless of how shitty everything is at the moment, it's still one feeling that all the shittiness can't shake off. So, yes, I'm hoping for a lot or at least some good things to end this year with. And good fucking riddance to every misfortune that came with it.
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