JPS
Serving humanity by counterexample
I hope to write a summary of my present circumstances. After reading it, you can give me as much advice as you'd like. I'd appreciate any at all.
Here goes. Note that the first five paragraphs are exposition.
I live in one of many small towns that orbit Washington, DC. Much of my time there I spend walking. On my walks, I frequent several coffee shops in the area. If I'm feeling especially moody, I'll go to a blues restaurant and order a cheeseburger. My cousin works as a waiter there, and we often talk about future plans, family, and the like.
My household includes my mother and her fiancee, a social worker who dabbles in local history writing. My mother has three kids including me. The other two live with us as well: my sister of seven years, and my brother of fifteen. My sister is my half-sister—my mother had her with her then-boyfriend, who lives in another nearby town. My mother's fiancee also has a boy of thirteen who lives with us.
Across the street, by coincidence, live my father and his wife, who married last year. I and my brother often visit. My cousin lives there too—he and I both graduated from high school last month. He is enlisting, though he had originally planned to enroll at a local university. I am not going to college this fall. Rather, I’ll apply to local and nonlocal colleges for next spring. I did apply for the fall but was ultimately rejected everywhere.
I turned eighteen last month. I went on vacation in late June and have since been looking for a job. My passions include math, writing, and music. Come college, I intend to major in cognitive science, a rendezvous between logic and intuition. But lately I’ve been doubting my prospective major—nonfiction writing, too, holds great appeal for me. I also have several pet projects, all of which I’ve been developing in spurts. If any of these were to launch, I might delay college.
During high school, I did theatre, where I met many of my friends. But because school ended, I’ve lost touch with most of them. Lately, in consequence, I worry I’ve had too much time to myself. Out alone long enough, I wander into a disagreeable frame of mind—my thoughts become insular, bleak, and hollow.
My life, I think, has reached a sort of crossroads. While most of my peers will preoccupy themselves with college come fall, there are still acres of empty space left over from my childhood that I’m troubling to fill. Moreover, I rarely ever stick to one idea or course of action owing to my manifold interests. Without the structure of formal education, I’ve become something of a nomad. I’ve fettered myself to my own liberty.
Still, I doubt my ability to perform well in college. High school, to say the least, was an abject mess of poor grades, inattention, and depression. For much of it, I felt inhibited by all the structure and all the expectations, which seemed arbitrary and unfitting. I’m grateful I graduated intact.
So I fear stagnancy just as much as freedom. I feel I’m making a choice of drowning in life or merely skirting along its surface. I’m lonely, too, and I worry I’ll remain lonely until spring, when I start college. My gap semester has turned into a dire soul search.
Any comments or suggestions?
Here goes. Note that the first five paragraphs are exposition.
I live in one of many small towns that orbit Washington, DC. Much of my time there I spend walking. On my walks, I frequent several coffee shops in the area. If I'm feeling especially moody, I'll go to a blues restaurant and order a cheeseburger. My cousin works as a waiter there, and we often talk about future plans, family, and the like.
My household includes my mother and her fiancee, a social worker who dabbles in local history writing. My mother has three kids including me. The other two live with us as well: my sister of seven years, and my brother of fifteen. My sister is my half-sister—my mother had her with her then-boyfriend, who lives in another nearby town. My mother's fiancee also has a boy of thirteen who lives with us.
Across the street, by coincidence, live my father and his wife, who married last year. I and my brother often visit. My cousin lives there too—he and I both graduated from high school last month. He is enlisting, though he had originally planned to enroll at a local university. I am not going to college this fall. Rather, I’ll apply to local and nonlocal colleges for next spring. I did apply for the fall but was ultimately rejected everywhere.
I turned eighteen last month. I went on vacation in late June and have since been looking for a job. My passions include math, writing, and music. Come college, I intend to major in cognitive science, a rendezvous between logic and intuition. But lately I’ve been doubting my prospective major—nonfiction writing, too, holds great appeal for me. I also have several pet projects, all of which I’ve been developing in spurts. If any of these were to launch, I might delay college.
During high school, I did theatre, where I met many of my friends. But because school ended, I’ve lost touch with most of them. Lately, in consequence, I worry I’ve had too much time to myself. Out alone long enough, I wander into a disagreeable frame of mind—my thoughts become insular, bleak, and hollow.
My life, I think, has reached a sort of crossroads. While most of my peers will preoccupy themselves with college come fall, there are still acres of empty space left over from my childhood that I’m troubling to fill. Moreover, I rarely ever stick to one idea or course of action owing to my manifold interests. Without the structure of formal education, I’ve become something of a nomad. I’ve fettered myself to my own liberty.
Still, I doubt my ability to perform well in college. High school, to say the least, was an abject mess of poor grades, inattention, and depression. For much of it, I felt inhibited by all the structure and all the expectations, which seemed arbitrary and unfitting. I’m grateful I graduated intact.
So I fear stagnancy just as much as freedom. I feel I’m making a choice of drowning in life or merely skirting along its surface. I’m lonely, too, and I worry I’ll remain lonely until spring, when I start college. My gap semester has turned into a dire soul search.
Any comments or suggestions?
