Well. Here we are.
I’ve committed to Cornell as a Government major and I’ll very likely minor in Arabic/Near-Eastern Studies. I graduate high school in less than three weeks. In under a month, I’ll be on a plane across the pond to go explore my old stomping grounds, with electric bass in hand. I have the best photography job I could ever ask for. Surprisingly enough, even though my life two years ago was considerably darker and more morbid than today, I managed to truck through all the myriad bullshit that high school threw at me.
Now that I’ve slogged through my last deplorable AP Lit and Comp essay, I have a few things left to patch.
1. Over the course of four years, I’ve let far too many beautiful friendships wither. I’ve let myriad relationships (platonic or otherwise) dissolve without cause or warrant, and in order to end my experience in Pennsylvania on a high note, it seems imperative that these connections be rebuilt.
2. I live 5 miles outside one of the biggest hubs of musical discovery in the western world, and I work for a radio station committed to constantly bringing new music to the table. Since I’ll be moving to the middle of nowhere in about 90 days, I need to take every single day to discover something new about music, music photography, or the industry itself.
3. I’ve spent the past four years being stressed about college. This summer is my period to finally relax, appreciate the people and things I have around me, and prepare myself for change that will very hopefully be welcome come move-in day.
This truly is the end of the beginning.
Ran into people I idolized as a freshman in Chipotle on Friday night after rehearsal. I attempted to act natural, and very likely failed miserably. After a brief catch up, I breathed the biggest sigh of relief and promptly ran back to my car and collapsed.
Ladies and Gentlemen: Nostalgia, and the shit it entails.
I just wish I patched things up better.
My load is getting lighter.
Seven weeks until second semester. I can do it.
Hopefully, the college admissions process will be done by Christmas. *knock on wood*
I got into colleges this weekend, 2 for 2 so far. I saw one of my closest friends this weekend for the first time in 1.5 years. I realized that I let way too many people from both home and camp slip out of my life under really superficial circumstances. I let my love life fade and my social life crumble.
I fell in love with New York and didn’t want to leave it. I could forget my entire world and learn the ways of a new one.
This whole college apps nonsense is starting to wear me down. ED will be done this week. Maybe then I can get some real sleep.
WHY THE FUCK DID I LOOK FORWARD TO SENIOR YEAR
SENIOR YEAR IS SO MUCH WORSE
I DON’T FEEL LIKE A PERSON ANYMORE
I’m feeling increasingly black and white.
I told myself I wouldn’t fall in love with an Ivy League school and then Cornell happened.
So I uploaded 3 pictures from the Panic! show at the piazza yesterday and gained 12 followers and got 2700 notes… Good haul.
Shit. Um. Uhhh. Err… Fuck.
How does one talk to cute european girls without, ya know, dying?
I have come to the long-thought out conclusion that no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I hate the main line in whatever form it manifests itself. It’s this complicated conglomerate of longing for where I came from, the stress that comes with the life of a high school student at LM, and the flagrant opportunism of nearly every single child born and raised here.
I was born in Madison Wisconsin, a land now filled with Scott Walker fascism and teacher-induced rage, but then a landscape much more quaint than suburban Philadelphia. My parents were engaged in the academe as they are now and the stress wasn’t there, on my parents or on me. I moved here from Fiesolé, a Tuscan comune with a breathtakingly scenic view of Florence, and I’m still not sure why we ever left. I receive an undoubtedly top-tier public education here, but that’s about all the merits the main line has in comparison to where I came from. However, even that has its fundamental flaws. The competition and stress level that comes with being an LM student is so fierce that it has mentally debilitated people, many with whom I had developed close bonds. That would not have nearly been the case had I stayed in Madison and gone to West instead. The whole opportunism thing applies here as well. In no other place in mine or my father’s times have either of us encountered people who compete not for the purpose of success, but for the purpose of mere superiority. In no other place have we encountered people so insensitive toward the feelings of others simply because of the situation into which they were birthed. Wealthy overprotective parents, discounted tuitions and legacy admissions have been and always will be the law of the land, and children will forever confuse what they have achieved with what their parents have bought for them.
I’m always holding onto stars.