I hate to be difficult but, I have no answers for who I think I am or why I exist or whatever other existential questions could be posed to provoke meaningful thought. If my thoughts didn’t move faster than I could control and my opinions didn’t change with every experience, then maybe, just maybe, I could give a sufficient answer. In this moment, I could think I’m clever but, in a few moments I could think I’m pretentious or maybe last week I thought I was funny but, this week I think I have no sense of humor—see the conflict? So I guess the extent of my thoughts of myself can be summed up so prettily into a neat little category of ‘undecided’. Or maybe I’m just avoiding unpleasant truths and choosing to exist comfortably in a bed of lies? Either way, the whole point of life is the journey, no? A journey of self-discovery, naturally.
And as it should be of no surprise, I don’t really have much opinion on college either. I go because I have to and I have no real concerns about it or more specifically freshman year because school is school is school; it’s the same thing I’ve been facing most of my life—same pressures, same concepts, same purposes, different buildings, different people, different moments in my life. Life, in general, is a series of modified repetitions of that which came before. So, I can’t say I’m really worried about anything because college and the problems it poses aren’t that difficult or important in the grand scheme of life because it’s only a few years out of life.
