Sunday, October 27, 2013

14 CHILDREN DEAD IN TERRIBLE ACCIDENT

There was last week, then there was fall break, and now there’s now.  Where did the time go?  Feels like my last post was just yesterday.  That’s the wrong way to look at it, though.  Two down, two to go, and then there will be one and none.  I’m sure you will all be terribly saddened over the loss of my ever insightful thoughts.
Oh yeah, I guess I should explain the title.  It has absolutely no bearing on this post.  I named it that for the sole purpose of making you click on the link.  See?  I’m a nice guy.  I tell you right up front when I lie to you and betray your trust.  So you can now be all hurt and sad and leave, or—and this is the much better option—you can continue to read and be entertained in a different manner.  How, you might ask?  Why by reading all about my life experiences as a college student, of course. 
For those of you who did not know, I am a freshman.  I was also homeschooled my entire life up to this point.  And that means that this is all entirely new, to a level that is beyond newness for most freshmen.  I mean, having a bunch of people doing the same schoolwork in the same classes as me?  What’s that about?  A bunch of random strangers living with me instead of my siblings?  Who do I mercilessly tease when I’m bored? 
That brings up the socialization I’m being forced into.  Seriously, I don’t know you and you don’t know me.  Unless we’re going to talk about something other than school, go away.  How many times do I have to say it?  You don’t know me!  You don’t know my life or my story!  The worst part is that there are no corners to crawl into and cry in.  Can I get some privacy?  Maybe just a few seconds alone?  Can’t even eat in peace.  There’s always people talking, talking, talking, endless talking, and when I think I’m done with it, more freakin’ talking. 
Why?  Why won’t you let me be the peaceful loner I’ve always been?  It’s not that I hate you.  It’s that I don’t care about you.  Not to be offensive or anything, but you’re people.  There are far too many people here.  Too many people that don’t get me and my razor sharp wit.  It’s so sharp I cut myself sometimes, and it hurts.  You people completely miss it though.  The concepts aren’t hard to grasp, the thought processes aren’t difficult to run through, yet all I get are blank, uncomprehending stares.  It’s not that hard to understand sarcasm.  I know I have incredible deadpan delivery, but come on!  Most of what I say is so far beyond plausibility.  Put a little effort into it, guys. 
Have I mentioned that there is this uncanny desire prevalent all over campus to get utterly wasted on the weekends?  What’s that about?  Why would you do that?  Why would you ever do that?  Life is short already.  I do not need to be missing my memory on three nights out of each week.  That is at least one whole day out of each week gone, depending on the level of drunk you get.  Never getting’ it back.  That means you’re losing 50 days of your life a year, if not more.  If you do that for all four years of college, that’s a spectacular 200 days of your life that you flushed down the drain, right along with the contents of your stomach.  I’m talking minimums here too.  Take a second, think it over, and if you can give me one good reason for that blatant abuse of what we call life—especially what is supposed to be the four best years therein—I will go out and join your debauchery. 
For now, though, I am quite content to have a few bros over and crack open a case of beer.  Root beer, to be precise.  Because you can get plenty high on the stuff, and still retain complete memory of what you did while you were high.  That makes a lot more sense to me.  I like knowing what I did so that I can proudly claim it as my own. 
To recap, college life is far too much work and inconvenience.  I have to deal with not only school, but also people, work, food, and money.  Not cool, guys, not cool at all.  This is far more trouble than it is worth, therefore you must excuse me.  I am going to go make a pillow fort and catch up with my real friends (they are too real!).  You can’t come.  Cause you don’t know the secret code. 

So there. 

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