this is it

I am a senior. With a month left in Berkeley, I wonder if I really made the full use of my four years here. Did I really get to do everything I could have done? No regrets?

I like most of my coworkers this year. Yet sometimes I wonder if they look at me with gnawing curiousity–she is the wise senior, the sage. I want their innocence. The two years they have left. Almost an endless pool of opportunity. Of paths they could take academically. As sophomores, they are not expected to excel in everything. They just haven\’t had enough experience yet. They aren\’t expected to know everything. They are just…two years younger than me.

As a sophomore, nothing was really stopping me. I thought I would major in computer science and took all the prerequiste classes. Despite doing only mediocre in them, I continued with almost an naive belief that I would get into the major. It\’s that edge of innocence. Long gone. The harsh reality hits.

I had only two ibuprofen pills left and took them all in the last 24 hours. Nothing left to appease the pain.

There was someone who said that this pain…the kind that comes from that time of the month…causes you to open your eyes and see the reality. I don\’t really like that person, but I see her point. The bluntness of the reality is that…I still have regrets.

There are times I could have said hi to someone. Who knows what path that could have taken. There are times I could have asked more questions. More inquisitive. But I chose the path I lead.

I met a pseudo coworker outside Soda while I was trying to find a place to rest before I had to go work. I mumbled some small talk, which he couldn\’t understand. He didn\’t seem that enthuastic to speak. But that\’s the way it is, right?

I don\’t like being falsely cheerful, because it\’s not quite representative of me. I dislike those who want me to write about happiness. As if I am supposed to entertain them, instead of writing to release my own steam.

Two years seems a lot. But can anyone really accomplish that much in 2 years? I lost myself in idealistic dreams the last 2 years. I controlled my anger more, although it did lash out every so often. But I sat in my apartment more. Brooding over what could be. Perhaps, I just wish my undergraduate years were longer so that I could have taken every chance I had. Sometimes I am worried it will be entirely different next year. Cold days in Pittsburgh, isolated within my own room.