The beginning of my second semester of freshman year has been tiring, fast. I just hadn't realized that mid-February is already here, and I have SO much to do. Golf practice I seriously need, papers that need written, newspaper stories to start, and oh, mid-terms are coming up.
Can I hit pause? Just for an hour or two?
Yeah, reality has smacked me in the face. Hard. And, a little wet.
So, I have taken up poetry lately. Just whatever hits me with a hard passion. It's my outlet...well for now. I can't work on my novel in the middle of madness. Most of it is dark poetry which kind of scares me on one hand, but then again, it comes easy that way. Oh, Mr. Poe...
One of my poems (that I haven't posted yet) really freaked me out. It depicted a girl having a tragic Valentine's Day. The narrator watches her crying as she throws her Valentine card into a river. I leave the ending open because at first I didn't know how to end it. So, I put it down and continued working on an outline for class. About ten minutes later (maybe more I don't remember), I get a text from my fourth roommate telling me her boyfriend broke up with her. I open my door at the same time my other two friends are coming down the hall. I think you can guess where this goes. I showed them the poem later, and they think I'm a fortune teller or something.
The four of us just cannot go anywhere without each other. We are all on the same floor and only a few doors down. They are the best people ever, and I don't know why it took this long for us to find each other. We are quirky. We are strange, but we don't really care. We are just ourselves.
I've been told before that the friends you make in college will last a lifetime. (I think this applies to my friends from Manchester, too.) And, we definitely will stick together in college. The future still remains a mystery. I can tell you though it will be crazy.
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