Imperfect

I actually harbour a lot of imperfections, I think. Like the fact that, during my first tutorial of this semester, I was overcome with a panic attack because the people in my class looked so utterly serious. Like the fact that my professor seemed to be talking in a different language about Darwin's theory of evolution and the gaia and overmind and the collective conciousness and unconciousness. It's a blur and that's what scares me. Fine, granted that I eventually found out what all that meant, it doesn't mean it was any less, yknow, cheem. It took me a while to grasp it. What if I was the only one? And what if everyone else understood but were just faking that they didn't understand it? And best (or worst) of all, what if I was actually naive enough to believe them?

The idea of school hits me right in the gut sometimes, and its a sickening, wrenching feeling that physically manifests itself- the day before school began, I went home after playing Captain's ball with the church suffering from stomachache induced not by spoilt food, but by fear. That meant that I went to school the next day feeling uncomfortable as heck but I managed to pull through the day anyway. I had dinner with my ex-colleagues after (story another time) but with the sickening dread of school the next day.

Funnily enough, I don't remember feeling this way last semester. I was happy, then, but I guess the grim reality of uni life finally kicked in, and I'm slowly withdrawing from people, from friends and becoming this quiet person all over again. It always happens with school. And now I shall see who are the friends whom stay with me throughout this period. Time has proven that this is an effective method of separating the acquaintances from the friends.

Its about time I sign off from this blogpost anyway. I contemplated posting about the disastrous dinner meetup with my ex-colleagues (to me, at least), but I'll save that for another time. When the fear and stomachache and nausea of a new semester passes.