I apologize to the blogging Gods, forgive me.
A lot has happened, though not as much as I thought would happen this summer. I was expecting it to be a raving drug/alcohol feast this summer, though... it turned out to be me a lot of frequent seclusion, contemplation, and academics (well, that department was... yeah).
I tried, and I'm still trying to designate the point B in my life, since I still consider myself in point A. Point B is what I'll be doing on my own for the rest of my life, and I've been thinking and thinking and thinking much like every other youngster at my age is.
What have I figured? Nothing. Just the present situation. I'm still depressed and I've been doing therapy (again, no shame in my game), and she says I suit the criteria for one with major depressive episode disorder which sounds like strawberry shortcake to me. How so? It's significant grounds for me to write an appeal to the University to have my record expunged and be treated in a more delicate case, which I find greatly positive. So I'm planning to switch to Communications and Art. Am I excited? More for the art. The Comm. bit is simply to have something that ensures a job for my destiny.
I say this at the beginning of every new semester since summer of last year: "I don't want to see another F on my report ever again!" And usually I fail somewhere. I just really hope this time, will be it! If not, then I will finally conclude that academics aren't for me and shatter the image to my parents that I am a sophisticated, educated, stable-minded scholar. As I just wrote that last bit, I looked at the words I used to explain how I try to make my parents see me. Stable-minded? I think now they're questioning it. They most probably have the impression that I'm cold, stoic, a lover of seclusion in a most peculiar way, and I think their suspicions were given some turbulence once I told them that I've been facing very hard depression within the last few years, more within the last year if anything. Sophisticated? I like to think so. I used to be. But since I've been here I feel like I've been dumbing myself. Perhaps it's the fact that I've befriended so many Arabs who can't handle my fancy English, and I've been speaking on a lower level for their comprehension. Educated? I used to be. But now I feel like I can't conduct a very intelligent conversation with someone on facts. One thing I'm proud of, is that as a byproduct of depression, I've exercised my mind's muscles in the fields of reasoning and philosophy. I think... I can successfully convince one to commit suicide. As morbid as that sounds I secretly pride myself knowing I can possess that skill. One other skill I take pride in is knowing how to roll a really good joint.
I can use one right now.
I don't feel like writing anymore.
Will talk again.
For now, here's a song I've been loving lately:
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