Last blog post/therapeutic

Terribly late. As usual. I had made the mistake in waiting just a LITTLE too long to submit all my blogs to the collection. School network did not allow me to do it, so I had to wait to get home.

So here I am.

I cannot believe I got through this semester as I did. As a transfer student, I am so used to doing things by the skin of my teeth. I did not imagine that being here at this private school would mean anything else. But this has changed as well— the work just as difficult as it was before, the effort expended just as much to get it done, but I find my mind so willing to expend it. It is difficult to discribe. Being a student is not different, but somehow, easier.

Table of Contents:

Modern Education

Well Enough, You Know

The Park Doors

Meaning and Meaninglessness


My Lesson Plan


Here stands the culmination of the work I have done for this class this past few months. There is nothing much to say about any of it, except I follow the theme of only loosely fulfilling the requirement for each post and instead pouring out an assignment that tells far more about sentiments, young and old, that reside in me. I hope to continue this type of writing. Its self-reflective nature is therapeutic.

Life as a transfer student always comes in chapters, comparing where I was to where I am now, to where I will be. A perpetual forward motion that tugs and tugs and tugs relentlessly, that compels me to either walk, stumble, roll or fall forward into the narrative of life. I suppose this is the only chapter that comes with a cover page.

I would love to write more on the subject, but I fear that this blog post is running late— and so am I. I am off to see my brothers. I am afraid we do not spend much time together. Each of us looking older and older then we did when we saw each other last. I should not spend this valuable time in front of a computer screen.

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