Two Years Almost Gone By, Am I Wise Yet? a couple of birds chirp and whistle, “No.”

I have come to realize now, how there is only a month left in this semester, and how after that, there will only be two years left of college left for me. I am halfway through college already? What the hell man. Unless some divine intervention occurs in the next two years I don’t think I will be at all ready for life outside of academia. I am not ready to be exposed to the unsheltered Americana that awaits me as soon as I get a piece of paper that certifies that my parents paid for my college experience. Even recently, I had to fill out tax forms, out of sheer formality, because I made the little income I did make this year. So much for putting off any semblance of adult hood, the fact that I was filling it out, no matter how trivial, or how little content those forms had, I still felt the nagging sensation at the back of my head, telling me that I am a fucking child still, and probably will be for the better part of my near future. I heard once that the word sophomore originated from the Greek words Sophos, meaning wise, and moros, meaning foolish. Yes, there are moments when I feel I am that fool who thinks he is wise. Sometimes I do attempt to give myself a little credit for something that would be universally acclaimed by the adult world as not that special at all. But I need to convince myself now and then that I am succeeding in certain avenues of my life. I need to stay sane don’t I? But even this trivial experience with taxes, and the epiphany that I am halfway through college already (epiphany might be an exaggeration for most people, but my sense of time is horrendous), is this maybe not a moment of moros? Who am I to think that that is proof of me nearing adulthood? Fucking bullshit I say. I crack myself up, far too often.

Perhaps what is important is that you recognize the importance of remaining the fool, because if you are a fool for long enough, you eventually become wise – at least to a certain degree, for you may be no Da Vinci, but at least you aren’t mentally drooling over everything that isn’t immediately stimulating. Pretending to be wise is in and of itself a foolish act. So instead, I am going to spend the rest of my semester barely getting work done and acting like some blind probe in space, just try to find little tidbits of stimulation anywhere I can find it, then realizing it is already 1:00 in the morning, make the decision that I should go to sleep, but then be unable to go to sleep because I did nothing that day, then guilt trip myself for a bit, then wonder about the trivial things I talked about in this blog post already, then think about how I do like two of my classes this semester, realize a wonderful idea for a short story, I won’t write it down of course because I am already in bed, so I repeat it to myself over and over again and hope that I will remember it when I wake up from about 5 hours of sleep cause I spent all this time thinking in bed after getting in late in the first place, this rush of ideas will continue, ideas for various essays that I need to work on perhaps, and after all is thought of and not completed, I will tell myself, “fuck it, you are an idiot,” and then fall asleep.

Or I do something I have always done as a child: try to stay awake so that I can be consciously aware of the very moment I fall asleep at, so that I can specifically experience that elusive switch between awake and asleep. When that happens, I stay awake till I see the rising sun. Another day of foolishness, with a heavy sprinkle of sleepiness. A combination that everyone loves on a Monday.