Am I meant to be a political scientist?
I often find myself wandering the halls of the Political Science department thinking, what am I doing here? Being creepy? Diplomatic jargon doesn't suit my fancy, so what gives? Besides my ineptitude at keeping up with the debates, what can make me my major (the major that's supposedly breeds the most argumentative assholes of a generation)?
Maybe one more year will. As I have sadly missed the resume drops of my favorite companies, I might just have to linger around for that fourth year instead of graduating after this summer. I might need it to find myself, instead of finding who I want to be (a thankless futile task if you ask me).
I think about my future like it's this big monstrous toad that is staring at me, waiting for me to attack it and conquer it. But yet, at each swipe, it moves a little further out of reach.
A combination of remorse, fear, uncertainty piles up, and its times like these that I just want to hide from that toad, pretend like it's just a figment of my imagination (which it is, but that's for me to see).
I'm approaching the big 2-0. And it's a crazy prospect to be out of my teens and on to full-on adulthood. At the same time I see teenyboppers who dress too old for their age, and I think...that's me. I'm who they are trying to be, but I'm already there. It's as if the person finally fits the clothes. But all the while, I'm losing all sense of why I'm here, in college, working towards a goal that is fading out of sight.
And then, while I'm wading in these mudholes of self-pity, I get these bursts of superhuman motivation that force me to flaunt myself at recruiters, send out a billion resumes, and answer interview questions effortlessly.
That person...needs to show up now....
Or else I'm going to Africa.
Gasp [Dumbass]
1 hour ago
