Entry 1

I have a lot to get out of my mind. It’s officially been about five weeks of school, which according to the counseling department is the “red zone” when sexual assaults are the most reported to occur (usually by freshman females). I completely flunked my Music History test, which brought me down to a B (the University uses the plus and minus grading scale, but I’m not used to it so I haven’t paid much mind to it), as well as my Algebra course, and I absolutely despise my Writing course. 

Mom finds it surprising that I hate my writing course, but it’s a given since I learned what a Rhetorical Analysis paper is. I’ve been fairly good at writing in high school, but I’m sure none of that really matters anymore.  I remember the second week my English professor asked what we’ve learned about college so far, and it took me all I had to think of a different answer than what first came to mind as she went through our names on the register one by one. I learned that people outside of Chicago are obsessed with anything American (i.e. the American dream, the American way, the American god-knows-what-else that they assume is how everyone feels and justifies their reasoning with), their also painstakingly confident. I feel weird about confidence, like how the society I live in expects everyone to exude confidence and will tolerate no less, but I don’t like confidence. I don’t like insecurity either, but I think humility is undermined a lot. I like humbleness (it that a word?). I also learned that college kids are quite the pompous asses, like they know everything or some shit. And my English professor keeps saying how research papers have to really work to convince us of anything, like we’re suppose to doubt every written word. All I know is, I don’t read research papers for fun nor am I easily swayed, it’s all just background noise. 

In the back of my mind, I knew this would happen. I spend all of my time playing games in the dorm and not studying (that’s not particularly new), I haven’t made many new friends. When I told mom about how I may have made a friend in poetry club, I could hear the relief exhale in her voice. But I knew this would happen. I also knew that my grades were too good to be true, because this always happens. I usually start off doing really well in school and end up with terrible grades shortly after, it was just how my life was doomed to be. But I want to do well this time, I actually care a bit more than high school. I mean, how could I not? With having my father pursuing his Doctorate’s and my mom just now finishing her Master’s, then being told of my later grandmother’s Bachelor’s and two Master’s, it’s like degrees are suppose to run through our blood. 

In the back of my mind, I know this doesn’t feel right. Something feels wrong. And it’s not just homesickness or loneliness, but the same wrong that’s been lingering ever since I started sending in college applications. College feels almost wrong, I’ve never got much value out of the education system, but it’s not like I have anything else I want to do. I don’t really have any passions or skills I can pursue, so I’m still just mindlessly doing what I think society says is right.

I don’t really have the right to complain since I’ve put myself in this situation, but everyone says not to complain if I don’t offer a solution anyway. It just makes me quieter though, and shyness isn’t a treasured trait in America either, sometimes I feel like I can’t be myself when it’s like that. I’m glad I can put this extra stress somewhere, even if it’s just temporary. 

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