I was told that I absolutely must write a journal entry on dA for the sake of Emma's ( [link]
) sanity. And given her (admittedly questionable
) mental state, I think that maybe I should take a moment and write a rant, a rant of the worst kind. A journalistic, diary entry of a journal. The worst kind, I know.
College life is one of the strangest experiences I have ever had. There are so many different people, of different cultural makeups, all attempting to absorb and fit into that which is newly around them. When the masks (or, balaclavas, perhaps) come off, this may well be a very different bunch. For now, my floor is a family, but one that is a stranger to itself.
I attended my first university lectures this morning - the first lecturer was in Biology, one Dr. Margaret Katz. I think she was attempting to mask her boredom with a kind of exuberance - her first-year lectures only a means to an end; the research of biochemistry, a subject which she so clearly loves. Most of these small observations have only occurred hours after the fact - 8am is no hour for mental exercise."...confidence comes in balaclavas -
victims, your sons and daughters
are our trophies, our eternal cadavers"
I will try and fit in some more writing, sometime soon, good afternoon.