It's the time of figuring out.
The experience the university has gave me has been incredible so far. Indeed, I wouldn't believe just a year ago that it would be such a journey, full of excitement, fear, new friends and lost ideals. It's not my first time of attending university - I have only finished a year previously - and neither it's the first time I gain such quantities of experience so quickly. Still, this time, it's superb to anything I have yet experienced.
I wonder a lot lately. The questions unanswered don't trouble my sleep but make days go by, often fruitless in their own right but complementing to a bigger picture which I come to see quite clearly sometimes.
I wonder of whom do I want to be. Who am I now. Whom will I become. Whom can I become.
I wonder if I can find a job, a good job, here. I wonder right after whether I can find a job that I would like. I wonder if I can make money off writing. I wonder if I can write for free - and whether those who like my writing will donate enough to make a living off it.
I wonder if those two cute girls in my group think of me. Then I wonder about why I wonder about whether they like me. I wonder if they like me and are somewhy afraid to show it or simply tolerate me because I happen to say good stuff; funny stuff.
I wonder if I can keep it up without screwing something up in my life. I wonder whether the clutter of stuff I find myself in - both things to put in place and dirt to scrape off - is the inevitable or simply the result of my lack of energy. I wonder, then, whether my lack of energy is perceived, imaginary, and whether I can do something about it. I wonder whether I'm lazy and afraid to admit it to myself.
I wonder of a lot of things.
Then, there are things I've learned so far - an invaluable experience, even if not always pleasant.
Keeping a house - a small apartment, to be precise - is a hell of a work. Clothes require washing, stuff requires being put into place, things - arranged in many manners, kitchen sink and bathtub - cleaned of whatever might accumulate there... There's no maid to do this for me. If I'm not the person willing to spend time cleaning up the mess, nobody is. It's surprisingly hard, too: as chores keep cluttering up, each of them look more and more menacing, and to a weakened mind after a day of study they look more and more impossible.
Studying, too, can become a mess if problems are left unsolved. They're the same clutter, only in the head. As I take studying more and more seriously, I come to realize: there was a reason for us to use school journals. I have no problem with most of the homework - either through knowing or winging it - but sometimes, there are things for which one must prepare, with proper time allocation prior to the event and a certain educational mood at hand. Those aren't annoying chores for me to resent: those are important tasks for my education, tasks to which I must give a portion of my attention - or I fail.
Being prepared, on the other hand, feels good. It feels like you can tackle it, without a reasonable worry that you might fail; and once an unreasonable worry arises, I feel like I can trump it back into the dirt of the mind it came from and stand tall, cheering for the victory, though small, upcoming. I felt it once, in the very beginning of the year: I spent all evening learning the Latin alphabet by heart; I recited it while cooking, after I went to bed and in the morning, and I knew I got it. Never made a mistake retelling it in class.
Doing good, though, is hard. Like Marianna Williamson said: "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.". I'm not sure how fair it would be to blame others for not feeling up for the task - there are arguments pro et contra - so I'll refrain from it. I feel, though, that around others - especially the crowds of people I might be willing to impress (that nasty selfish habit of mine) - I can't be myself; can't be confident in myself; can't do things I believe in because someone else might not like it.
I did find out that support is very important, especially from the people you can see and interact with, physically. Having never had a support network, I can feel the impact immediately: merely having fun with someone for a little while is inspirational.
I also discovered, quite to my marvel, that there's a whole world of people around who don't give a shit about me. In a university, I merely have to look around to see just how many give me no thought, don't even notice me standing there. The world just keeps going, with or without me; whether I wish it or not. It's much to my starving ego's dismay, and much to my delight for me to know, because it confirms, time and time again, that the world does not revolve around me; that I'm another person, no more or less important than others for the world - and barely more or less important for others persons. It's... impressive. Humbling, perhaps.
I keep learning, slowly, confidence. I keep learning that unless I do something, it won't happen. I've asked out two girls already, in the first month of studying - already twice as much as I did in a year at the first university. I've started doing some low-level origami - finally; because I enjoy it and I can do it.
I've learned, too, that like attracts the like. I keep being attracted to people who aren't interested in me and in whom, had I any sort of healthy self-esteem, I wouldn't be interested. Still, I'm drawn to what I try to escape. I know there is an escape - start acting on your beliefs and not your fears - but that's the route I'm only stepping on.
There are many things I've learned already, and it's been amazing to get at least a partial recall on those; to take a look at a bigger picture once again, while I'm in the mood for it. So many things, in fact, that I'm losing grip of what most of them are, for they are many and yet insignificant enough. An incredible experience, indeed.
Sometimes, I feel lonely. I haven't made friends with anyone here yet; would I know if I did? The only people to call me are my parents, and I never want to call them back. I live alone in a rented apartment. Talking to a person feels good when we get to talk about stuff that actually matters; I ask people why they do what they do and what attracts them in what they like, and sometimes, I get very interesting answers, and it's exciting.
Still... There's a lot I'm yet to figure out. Some of it - very important for survival, other things - for the mind. I'm eager to learn, and I won't let my fears stop me. Thus, for now...
It's the time of figuring out.