And what you thought was a hurricane was just the rustling of the wind. Why do you think we need amazing grace just to tell it like it is? Well, I don’t need no doctor to tear me all apart. I just need you to mend my heart.
I just took a midterm for my Romantic Movement class. In 75 minutes, I had to write basically four essays. I’m not that great at in-class essays and the time limit killed me; needless to say, I didn’t finish everything I needed to get done, and I’m pretty sure I failed. I feel like shit. I sit in that class for 75 minutes, two days a week. The entire time I just think about how much of an idiot I am. None of it makes much sense to me. I mean, it does when we discuss it in class, but I can read it by myself and just have it all go right over my head.
What the fuck happened to me? I was top of my class throughout grade school, I went to a prestigious all-girls high school and got a 3.9 GPA. Then I got to college and I can’t even bring myself to participate in class for fear of sounding stupid. I try so, so hard. I am always studying/reading/working but my grades really don’t show all my effort. My grades look like I spend most of my time partying and doing E or some shit.
Am I not smart?
Seriously: what happened to me that my confidence in my intelligence has flown out the window? Why am I constantly trying to achieve perfection? Why do I set high expectations for myself and why can’t I deliver?
Point of rant:
Today, like most days at Loyola, I feel like an idiot, and that I’m not worthy to be here.
Remember when you were in college and you would see a whole bunch of people posing for a picture. Those pictures would wind up on Facebook, and to the untrained eye it just looked like a bunch of people having a good time. But if you look closely, the picture had been photobombed by “that guy.”…