Wait, wish, weep, repeat

Nothing's regular nowadays - my own adjustment period, from waking to feeling that something is done, is taking longer than expected. Sometimes I wonder why I never took the opportunity, early on, to be busy with things and look more accomplished like the rest of my friends. I've always known the world relies on names, titles and honors, but somehow I was stupid enough not to keep that in mind.

My only class for today was supposed to end at a little past eleven, but we were dismissed an hour earlier. Already advanced radio class situated itself on the brink between mastery and utmost geekiness, and I was enjoying it to much of my surprise. Sure, I love radio, but the surprise was because it is becoming very awkward, for me at least. Sometimes you end up pouncing on something because of the emptiness that surrounds your time, because you just itch to get working and cannot for some reason. Once we were dismissed, I was aimless again.

And then I don't know what else to write.

It does feel weird going home with the sun way up there, pretty much like going to school with the sun way up there. It's a disruption of the biological clock, and it's bigger than I expected, because the scenarios I'm in involve extraordinary positions - one class, more time for something that isn't happening yet, and all that. Before I'd usually be happy about it, striking down every attempt to complain, because everybody knows we need to rest, especially when we know we wouldn't get it any more conveniently. Now I realize I am a workaholic.

Moreso now that the pressure comes from so many places, partly because I've been meeting new people. There's always prioritization, and then there's trying to impress everyone - or keep yourself (superficially) happy, as if your existence depended on how one flips her hair and carries it throughout. I hate it when they pose, especially when they don't know they are. I hate it more when I notice, because that means I haven't been doing my homework, literally. It's just me, a blank stare, and probably a planet in the sky.

The ongoing process of reprioritization - or, in terms you're more bound to understand, "meeting" new people even if you've actually met them - means things fly so fast. And yet I stay so still, wondering when the next package would arrive. One box thrown in the air, I grab, I get acquainted, and destiny says I shouldn't bother doing more. Maybe it's the want to see something stay for a little bit longer, find time to develop, and then see whether I'm doing a mistake or not. Maybe what I perceive as positive changes are actually just effects of a problem with time. It's being ironic, actually.

Sometimes I wish we had semesters instead of trimesters. At least we don't have to worry that much. Only they had to sell something, and they did until someone beat them in the game. But maybe soon I'd appreciate the way things go. Now that people just pass by, either because they can't establish themselves or they've established themselves some place else, you just end up wishing there was someone for you. And then there won't be for the longest time.

But, in a fit of positivity, I'll just think someone beat me to it and got it wrong.

And your responses...

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