Pearson

wiser or simply older?

Nearly one and I am trying to decide between going to bed like the obedient convalescent girl I am or … introspect. Two years ago it wouldn’t even have been a choice, the compulsion to write an irresistible one. But now it seems like I have less time to lose, more things at stake.

It’s also nearly impossible to type silently. I’m sick, too, and there’s a bio test tomorrow morning, and – I’ve been grumpy all week, it is true.

Perhaps the lingering effects of CNY, perhaps not. January hasn’t been bad, but I hope February finds me more … engaged. Involved. I read somewhere today lines which went something like but this term of graduation is for endings, not beginnings. I have spent my last eighteen months trying to figure out what the right way to live my life is. I think I am right back where I started, just more tired.

Sleep it is, then.

 

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