(Quoted from an Elton John song; 5pts to the correct guesser!) Well, something rather disturbing happened today. I actually realistically considered going to UT (and not the Honors program), staying at home, and reverting to the social hermit stage I was before my Junior year. It wouldn't be too hard, I dare say, and there's only two real detriments to that plan. One is that I'd actually be living at home, with my sister and father either of which I could burst into a homicidal rage upon fueled by pent up rage so compact and dangerous it's been simmering for years. But surely I could repress more. I mean, I've gone three years with no attempts at the life of my dear sweet sister, why would I break the streak after... six....more........years? Yeah.... The second is that after all the progress I've made I'd end up just throwing it to the wind and regressing into the small ball of solitude I was before that oh so fateful Junior year.
The reason the thought had occurred to me is two-fold (yet again). One reason is that the thought of going to Maryville and actually being forced to be in close confines with other people I may or may not like for extended periods of time is a tad disturbing. I mean, what happens if I get there and they're all the type of people I loathe? (For those keeping track, those people are (in order of annoyance) sadistic, pervicacious, hypocritical, superficial, gossiping, missionary, born again Christians.) I just have nightmarish visions of hordes clones wandering about getting drunk and acting in that wretchedly stupid/sadistic way many boys do. Surely this would not be the case. Right? Right?!? Right.
At UT, I could avoid confrontation and interaction the entire time, outside of class. I could go home, not do homework, get on the computer, do homework, sleep, and return the next morning. No "talk", no "activities", no "other people." Essentially what I do now, except even now I see a few of you outside of class. I don't think I'd get involved in much of anything at UT. So, basically, it's a choice of shallow and easy vs. deeper and hard. I don't know... My main goal at college is to get out, and Maryville is one year shorter for Education than UT. But Maryville's fees (of which I would have little to none if I was to go there) keep quite a few people out. It's also only 1000 or so people strong, so that's a tad scary. I'm not much of a gambler...
It's ironic, though, that I'm becoming somewhat of a "selectively outgoing" person, and now I ponder reverting to a recluse. I don't like being cold, impassive, and quiet. It's rather boring. Monotones (unless they're needed, Ellen (who, by the way, did a great job after much coercing on our skit even if it didn't get many laughs)) are just not exciting. I want to be erratic, needlessly excited, and overly exuberant. When I feel like it. And gradually I am. I want to be a teacher whose class is like a relief/reprieve in a stressful day because I'm not serious, sorta like a Petko/Combs hybrid without the religion, seriousness, and difficulty. I've seen too many miserable teenagers, I want to make some of them happy. At the very least I'd like to be an understanding, approachable person. It's a factor that seems to be in favor of Maryville because I'd actually get to know more people and hopefully obtain a further understanding of them. Meh...
I guess it's about the only goal I have left. I'll never date unless something pretty monumentous happens to change my mentality. I've no more dreams and aspirations. I've discarded any semi-ambitious notions I may have had at one point. Writing, performing, changing the world, all have been pretty much turned into pipedreams. I don't really care about much except to make my life and those around me better and more interesting, and to certain extents I achieve it. I don't know how far successful I am, only so many people have blogs... Ah well. I guess it's a good enough goal, albeit a simple one. If only I had some form of ambition. Or confidence. But that's ok. Just gotta keep the mantra in mind. You ought to as well.
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