The Crucible

Correspondence

College: Life of a Freshman

by Alan Ninan

The week of fun and experimentation is over--

drinking Starbucks, fighting the hangover of the weekend,

rushing the work that we thought we didn’t have.

Due Dates,

quizzes,

storming the sleep-deprived

“adult.”

“Make good choices” plays in my head like a broken record as

I take a shot of whiskey.

The days pass by like lecture conversations;

waiting for the weekend to walk away from work for just a

second,

find a new persona in my chemical imbalances and bottles of

wine.

Who am I?

Cup after cup of Starbucks,

I call myself the next-generation white girl,

or am I just a sleep-deprived college student?

My body aches from the heavy sandbags my eyes carry,

strap them on my back and carry the books that cause my

pain

weighing down my back but increasing the knowledge in my

mind.

I am a fiend for knowledge.

that’s why I live in the library.

Judge me for who am, but I’ll be making more money than

you will.

But where are all my friends?

4.0 but no one’s got my back.

Socialization is for the weak He says.

Study and achieve greater goals than your predecessor, He

whispered.

He consumes your thoughts, ideas, desires.

Derogatory thoughts encompass my insecure, childlike mind

as I stare at the mirror, changing from outfit to outfit,

impressing people who really don’t care but judge.

Society knows just what to say about you

but never stops to think who you really are.

Live my life with no emotions, no emotions,

no strings attached and no further conversations

shushh... Don’t get feelings involved; that’s what split both our

parents apart.

Pent up pain and tribulation closed by a corkscrew of past

relations,

drops seeping out through tear ducts.

no Emotion.

No Time.

Two planners deep? Am I crazy or organized?

By the blank stares of my peers, I assume I am crazy

I just wanna be planned and prepared for an education that I

am paying $80,000 for.

So next time you ask me why am I so prepared,

don’t be surprised that I shove my student bill in your face.

$1440 are placed in your internal bank account each day.

No time for people.

There are so many names and faces; everyone just becomes a

blur--

“dude,” “pal,” and “buddy” are nouns that replace those I don’t know.

8.6 billion people in the world and you still think your name matters?

The reality is you decide your worth, don’t let others define you. Let your every word be original; plagiarism is illegal.