I thought that I would have it all figured out by now. I would party at night until I couldn’t move my feet, and in the morning as I would brush my teeth, I would look in the mirror and know who I was.

I would grab a coffee before class, and sit in the front row. Take color coordinated notes.

Then I would rush off to a club meeting or two, and after, have dinner with some friends. Then I would rush to my dorm room to polish up an essay and turn it in on time. Check my grades, and then at nine, start getting ready do it all again.



Like in the movies, or just about every book I’ve ever read.


Instead I find myself stressed. Worrying about money. A scholarship fail, and what I want to do. Not just do. But who I want to be and who I am right now. Who I am in the process of becoming.


I thought I knew who I wanted to be. And what I wanted to do. If the task of following it seems daunting, does that mean I’m not truly wanting it? And how am I supposed to decide, right now? I can’t even decide what I want to eat sometimes.


Should I flip a coin? Pray? Stay?


I feel suspended at times, but not really, because that is what is moving, time.
Too fast, too soon, too rapidly, and all those words are just synonyms for : I don’t know what to do.

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If you read this thank you for taking the time to read a college student's ramblings. I needed to get it out, and as always I can count on writing to help me sort my thoughts out.