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Author Archives: cb133809
Posts: 3 (archived below)
Comments: 0
Mandatory Post III
Well here we are at the end of the semester and this is probably the first time I’m truly acknowledging that fact. Surprisingly, I have lived each day this semester day by day, which was certainly helpful for my nonchalance but probably not as helpful for my motivation, or lack thereof that is. My experience thus far has been one of which I cannot complain though; I came to Baruch with little to no expectations—a defense mechanism so that I am always surprised and never disappointed—and it’s safe to say that my experience has exceeded my lack of expectation. I think this semester has gone fairly well, maybe next semester I’ll put in more effort—or maybe that’s a blatant lie because I’ll definitely have to learn to care before that happens.
In all, I’m not exactly sure I would do much differently even if I could because I don’t know if I care for any other outcome. And in terms of how I have changed, I’m definitely a little less pretentious—or maybe I just learned to hide it better—and I’m a little more knowledgeable of myself overall. All in all, first semester has been more enjoyable than expected and there’s not more to ask for than that.
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Mandatory Post II: Personal Monologue
I suppose this is my moment to reveal something about myself—important enough that it’s worth the taken breaths, interesting enough that you can fake attentiveness politely, and just maybe thoughtful enough to seem like I care. But, in all honesty, I’m not very good at caring… and it’s not like my free writes were helpful in composing this little monologue here because I rarely do what I’m told when I have the option to do something else. So, nevertheless, here I am, pretending to care and talking about myself as if you should care—my two least favorite things. But, luckily, pretense is my forte, so here goes nothing that I’ll pretend is something.
I’ll let in on a secret that’s not really a secret at all, but, nonetheless, my secret is that I couldn’t be more terrified now for there are a few things that scare me more than monsters under the bed, being alone in the dark, and infections and this would be one of them. It’s not the speaking part I mind. I say too many things—often outlandish and reckless—to care about what I say but it’s the being on public display part that I hate about things like this. I just try to exist without thinking that other people know or care about my existence and this is just going against all of that, now isn’t it? It’s not that I’m saying you do care now because I’m sure you don’t, but I’m making you care just a little because I’m trying to make this worth your time. And see, that’s not how I function in my world. I don’t assume I’m important, which allows me to do what I want, freeing me of worry of other people’s judgments. But, standing here, in front of you, I’ve been pigeonholed to do just that—think about you and your thoughts about me because right now, I am at the disposal of your minds and beady little eyes. See, this why I brought the cupcakes because I secretly hoped you’d be in a state of euphoria and not pay attention to me. But I delude myself because I can see you finished your cupcake and aren’t in any state at all. So, now, you’re looking at me, or looking through me, and it is this moment that I am most vulnerable. Because you scare me and I can’t do a thing about it.
How’s that for revelatory?
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Mandatory Post I
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.
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