I keep vacillating from wanting to be there already, to having thoughts like, "I'm going to miss my bookshelf. And my stationary Rubik's cube. And Baron Von Bells the Moose." It's like a weird manic-depression, but for college
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My school requires me to take 3 mandated course-things: one on drugs and sex, one on being safe in the city, and one about how to be safe while doing artwork. Crazy.
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