I set out to do a lot of things this semester that I did not do, and the semester is halfway over. I hoped to achieve a lot this semester, and I'll be the first to admit my failures. Too many classes, too many lines too learn, too many things to think about. I bit off more than I could chew and it drove me to do things I never thought I would do. To blow of steam I ended up making a fool of myself at a party, becoming the very thing I looked down upon my whole life, a drunk hormonal idiot. And though it could have been much worse, my couple hours of fun costed me. I put myself in a place with someone I really should not have been in, not being fair to her feelings or mine. Not only that, but I hurt my reputation and credibility. I may have lost respect from a few people who I care for deeply, one in particular. How can I tell them what I believe to be true when I act like that? Will they always think less of me now? There more I think about it the more I realize how painfully insecure I am, and how other people are noticing.
I hate quitting more than I can say, mostly because it is something that spreads like wildfire, like the plague. I seem to have contracted this particular virus too. I quit calculus, (which I never should have signed up for) which is the closest to failing a class I have ever come. I quit reading for my classes, relying on sparknotes and my ability to bs my way through a discussion. Every day I start poems, stories, assignments, and ideas that still lie unfinished. I keep putting God, writing, and exercise on hold, wasting hours in front of a screen. And I am paying for it. Not to say that now I'm some reprobate bum now, and I'm absolutely hellbound. I know better than to be that melo-dramatic. I also know in the grand scheme of things these problems are insignificant. But I know I'm squandering what I have, and the time I have to use it.
At the same time I have accomplished things. I have learned. I have grown. I made new friends and rediscovered Shakespeare. I got a big role in a production and I tried some new things. I do have a few scars from this, but I know God can help me salvage what I need out of this, and I still have half a semester left. Let's see where it takes me. There are definitely still possibilities.
I hate quitting more than I can say, mostly because it is something that spreads like wildfire, like the plague. I seem to have contracted this particular virus too. I quit calculus, (which I never should have signed up for) which is the closest to failing a class I have ever come. I quit reading for my classes, relying on sparknotes and my ability to bs my way through a discussion. Every day I start poems, stories, assignments, and ideas that still lie unfinished. I keep putting God, writing, and exercise on hold, wasting hours in front of a screen. And I am paying for it. Not to say that now I'm some reprobate bum now, and I'm absolutely hellbound. I know better than to be that melo-dramatic. I also know in the grand scheme of things these problems are insignificant. But I know I'm squandering what I have, and the time I have to use it.
At the same time I have accomplished things. I have learned. I have grown. I made new friends and rediscovered Shakespeare. I got a big role in a production and I tried some new things. I do have a few scars from this, but I know God can help me salvage what I need out of this, and I still have half a semester left. Let's see where it takes me. There are definitely still possibilities.
