I didn’t die.

Although I’m sure that for a time it felt that way what with my break from feeding the starving masses posting about all of my endeavors, but unfortunately college happened, and I must say that I’m not terribly proud of that. There are quite a few things that I can do, but college reminded me that my most valuable talent is my ability to go through the motions.

I’m not one to shy away from work, but I am one to despise a job’s ability to drain every ounce of joy from your life. Is that what happened to me this past semester? Most certainly not. However, there were many times that I welcomed the monotony of homework and tests because of course—despite the fact that I moved across the country—it turns out that dejection isn’t a beast native only to Texas. I found it in Iowa too, and when it comes to my own spiritual ecosystem filled with anxiety, drama, and past regrets I am always at the bottom of the food chain.

With that said, I did pretty well for myself to start things off with. Classes were going well, and I met a group of what I believe to be very trustworthy individuals, but naturally flowers need rain and shine to grow. However, if I had to consider myself any type of plant it’d be a cactus because I’m resolutely positive that I’ve had my fair share of precipitation with the thorns to prove it, but of course when the sky cries we just roll with the droplets or drown.

And what brought on this perfect storm, you may ask. My former roommate who, at the end of a very dramatic course of events, had to be removed from my residence hall.

I’m not detailing the events surrounding my previous living situation, however. The point and crux of the story is that my first semester of college is over, and I’m not sure just how to feel about the blur of events that makes up the first half of my freshman year.

A part of me believed—hoped even—that I would go through life changing events, and that everything would be morphed into something unrecognizable after my three to four months of being a mockingHawkeye, and that somehow nothing would be the same but in a good way (whatever that is).

Another part of me thought college would end what little life I’ve been living with tests and grades and all of the anxiety that social interaction tows around, and there were times when that school of belief convinced me it was the only school I had actually been accepted into…

And of course there’s the fraction of me that thought I should transfer; along with the bit of me that figured that money shouldn’t be my Babylonian Finger.

But there was always the slither of me that felt—and continues to feel—that perhaps college isn’t for me…

I want to write.

That’s what I keep telling myself, and part of the reason I neglected the brainchild that is this blog for so long is because I was doing that. Writing.

I took a playwriting class this past semester, and one of the assignments I had been tasked with was writing a one act. Of course, my idea had to be uber complex and a completely foreign concept to even myself, and on top of that after everything was said and done I had written a full length play—not just an act…

But in order to even finish the rough draft, I told myself I was not allowed to write anything else—including this blog—which is why my updates ceased.

So now, here it is—the amalgamation of all the things I’ve felt and thought these past few months—and as I sit here I still couldn’t tell you what all I learned these past few months. I could tell you that I can hold a decent conversation about a variety of topics all in Japanese, or the proper posture for singing musical theatre, or even a few writing tips, but I always imagined sharing something more exciting—something more personal.

But I dreamt of a lot of great things for myself in college—things that I think take more than three to four months to come to fruition…

However, that’s just me being hopeful and praying that something grand is already in the works for me.

There is  one great thing I learned about though:

The Color Purple

I had seen the movie quite some time ago, but—having been fifteen years old at the time—I didn’t really glean anything groundbreaking from it at the time. On top of that, I had always known that it was a book originally then a movie and musical, but very recently this story was brought back to my attention in a revival of the musical which is now on Broadway. Having never paid it any true attention, I heard the music for the first time; and simply put—it’s beautiful. So while everyone is losing their mind over Hamilton, I’m somehow ecstatic about and discovering something new in The Color Purple years after it’s publication…

After listening to the whole original Broadway soundtrack, I really put my life under a microscope as silly as that may sound. It turns out though, Celie and I have a lot in common, and once I realized that her journey and my own had very blatant similarities I saw my own story a lot differently because The Color Purple isn’t just a “black story”. It’s a story about spiritual oppression and learning that it’s okay to love and to be loved, which I’ve struggled with for quite some time now.

If I were being honest, that’s the most important thing I’ve learned all semester. I’ve been sitting here and racking my brain about what it is that made all of my choices and mistakes worth their while, and it’s all because I want to be sure that I’m living and learning and changing for the better; and yes—part of me has felt that growth was put on the backburner. However, in retrospect, I really and truly believe that had I not experienced these past months as I have—I would have never seen this story or parts of my life in the way that I do now…

(Which is an incredible thing for a book to do. The only other book that made me feel that way was the Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver.)

Now, that it’s winter break and I’m trapped within my house with nothing to do but read The Color Purple, make cookies, and write, you can expect a more detailed account of the recent past. This was more of a testament to my life which I assure you all goes on, and now that I’ve established my credibility as a living human being once more, enough of all that.

I really have to get back to this book…

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