the time has come, my little friends, to talk of many things

For years- years- I've anticipated being able to go back to school. I've fought and cried and dreamed and yearned for the day in January of 2014 that I'd be able to get myself onto a campus full of hungry minds and thirsty eyes. I want to sit in classrooms full of students and share ideas and learn until my brain pounds from being overfilled.

Well, the time has come. School starts tomorrow. And I'm so terribly frightened. I'm afraid I won't find my classes (even though I've already been to campus and walked between them just to get the feeling of the path under my feet), I'm afraid people won't like me, I'm so scared I won't succeed and all of this planning and hope will be wasted.

What if I'm not good enough? What if I've spent all this time thinking I could write and thinking I was intelligent only to be told I'm not good enough or ready for this? I hate so much that anticipation drives the brain into a grave of fear and hesitation. Every semblance of confidence has evaporated and now I'm just so scared of failure and future.

I'm afraid of failure, but I'm afraid of success too. Success means that things have to change. I have to grow up. The thought of actually achieving your dreams is a heavy thought. What if I'm not ready? What if I'm never ready?

I am excited. I think. I'll be more excited after the first few days are over with and I know for certain I can find my classes in 15 minutes and I know for sure where to park my car. Just have to breathe, right? Everyone has been afraid before, right? Everyone has had first days? Everyone has made it?

Send good thoughts, lovelies. This past year while I've been waiting to start school, you have all kept me motivated and going. The support I've gotten from all of you has been the biggest blessing. I love you all to the moon and back. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. Thank you for taking a part of my little life in my little corner of the internet. You are all the very best.

via *

Walking Irony

Time is flying this year, isn't it? Was it not JUST New Year? I remember New Year so vividly like it was yesterday and so much has changed. It was 7 months ago! It's gonna be Christmas tomorrow at this rate.

I sort of hate how time flies. And just like everyone always says, it goes faster the older I get. Good lord, I'm only 21. Time better simmer down if I plan to enjoy being 30 eventually. I just find it amazing when big things happen after loads of planning and time. It's like your high school graduation. You know it's coming for 13 years of school. You know it's always on the horizon. But one day you wake up, slip on your graduation robe, adjust your tassel, and have your dad drive you to your graduation. It feels surreal and is over so fast, just like everything amazing in this life.

I've spent so long planning for my future and now it's here for the most part. At least, the future I've been working towards for two years now. January is on her way, which means I finally get to be back at a University studying English like I want to be. (Brief side note, how DARE America not speak like the British do by saying "I'm at University reading English instead of majoring in? Real missed opportunity there.)

As excited as I am to get on my way to my dreams and my future, I'm so scared to leave where I am right now. I love my little twin size bed in the room I grew up in. I love having my dogs around me. (Real talk, I'm the saddest to leave my girls. Unbearable. Un. Bear. Able.) I love how my bed smells. I love my small town. I love knowing what I'm doing.

I like to be the best at things. I like to be good at what I'm doing and know what I'm doing. I hate feeling unsure or stuck in limbo. However, I love adventure. I'm walking irony. I love new things, but I hate being imperfect. I love new bedrooms and decorating, but I hate leaving my home. I thirst for new places and new people, but I'm so afraid to be hurt. I love irony and I hate it.

 I'm human juxtaposition.

This is a weird sort of word vomit of a post, but writing catharsis is always needed, yes? Not all words are flowering and pretty, but some rambling is needed for the flowers to grow.

via Tumblr