Clocks slay time… only when the clock stops does time come to life.

Another unproductive day. I woke up late and spent most of the time contemplating the dream I had last night and life at college. Sometimes it feels like I’m still waiting for the whole college experience to begin. It’s not that I’m not happy with my time at GW, it’s just that it doesn’t necessarily feel like the most typical, cliche version of events.

Anne and I bonded today, talking about our lives. It was a nice talk. I realized that I tend to be a pretty serious person. Not that I’m never goofy, but I don’t bring barrels of levity to every situation, either. I dearly love to laugh, but I don’t feel like I do it as often as I’d like. I’ve noticed in the last few weeks that I’m very fixated on my future instead of the now. I also tend to spend some time reminiscing. I don’t know how to better interact with the now, but it’s always going to be now, with my future passing by. Does that make any sense? I guess I need to work on seizing the day, taking the bull by the horns, carpe diem, yadda yadda yadda. My life just seems too busy to find time to change – what with classes, work and interning. But before I can change my habits, I need to figure out how. Next semester will be a more freeing time, what with no internship to contend with. On the whole, I’m content – I’m just not always happy. The spring will be a nice change of pace – I’ll have some more time for me.

The big issue I tend to wrestle with is finding my niche here at school. I have friends and I hang out with them a lot, but I still find it hard to beat my occasional reclusive behavior. I’m always harried by time. I feel like Quentin Compson, but, you know, without the incest and suicidal tendencies.

Maybe that’s the heart of the issue there. I don’t have my time to read – to completely absorb myself inside another life, to bear their burdens instead of mine for awhile. I’ll work on some homework, finish watching the Bama game, and give my current hero, Winston Smith some time to come alive. And maybe inspiration will strike and I’ll be able to work on my writing for a while. If only I had a fireplace or a beautiful old library…

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