Dear readers, If someone asked me to explain what college is like, I’d use two words: exhaustive & rewarding. It’s been quite the week, and with everything else going on, It’s hard to find time to relax and write a little bit. Luckily, I found time, and with the help from a bit of music, I think I can manage a decent story.
Que the death metal!
So, people watching on a college campus; what’s it like? There’s too many words to really describe it. Profound, the excessive number of people willing to learn as well as offer their knowledge, but the students and teachers aren’t the only elements that make it interesting; the material we’re learning is golden. You know how some would say “knowledge is power?”
They were right.
It’s sounds like a clique, but I do feel a bit more knowledgeable. After two sixteen hour work days, who wouldn’t? Although a tension headache runs rampant through my mind from the sheer amount of information intake—Note to self: ‘Information Overload can be a sign that one needs a study break.’—the reward is high.
But, I’m not here to sell you ideas. We are here to talk about observations of others in our social milieu; we’re here to watch people in silence, make quiet (almost non-existent) judgement, and sneak back to our dark little corner of the room to write to the whole world about it. It’s like the old riddle goes:
“What can travel around the world and never leave a corner?”
The answer I was always given was a postage stamp, but a writer could probably do just as much damage. Getting into college was easy, and it shows on the many, still pimple-ridden faces of the younger teens, recently capped, gowned, and made to feel special in an important ceremony. In my opinion, it, like most odd things you must submit yourself to at one point or another in your life, has an underlying money-making scheme.
Alas, the young’s(speaking mentally rather than physically) never cease to surprise me; one young gentleman asked me during a professor’s lecture, “Bruh, think he’ll get mad if I dip out early?” A young member our society said this. I wanted to respond in quite a few ways, but I didn’t. Seriously though, you knew you were going to be here. You scheduled for this class; you asked for it.
I just shrugged my shoulders.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said, pretending not to care in the slightest, but seriously, you knew you were going to be here. What’s more important to you that what you’re paying thousands of dollars for has to come second? I won’t rag on this individual too much because he’s not the only one, but the excuses that most would hear on such an occasion was that their dog had gotten hit by car or that they had a family member stranded somewhere. Albeit, both awful situations, but do you really think it warrants dipping the last I don’t know… fifteen minutes of class?
There are troves of people that I’ve seen in the one week I’ve been going to college that just look disinterested. Granted, the work is hard and not everyone is majoring in a subject where you’re writing your ass off anyway, but If you paid two grand for a car, wouldn’t you expect it to take you places?
Apart from the onslaught of new information, nothing really ‘new’ happened this week.
But now that I have my schedule in order, my advisors reached out to, and a new work schedule down, I feel like I can make some headway on what I want this blog to really be. I’m slowly carving it out as the weeks go on. Any suggestions will be taken into heavy consideration.
Also, if you’d like to sign up for the Quarterstories mailing list, there’s a input section on the right-hand side. You’ll only receive what I post each week. If you, as the reader, have any suggestions, contact me using the contact page and I’ll see what we can do to make it happen.
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Until then, dear reader.
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