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Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

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Today, one of my teachers told the class to look at everything from a scientific point of view. But for me, I think it takes the magic out of everything. Take my long search for meaning of my life. What if there’s no such thing? What if this search is just an illusion induced by some imbalanced chemical ratio in my brain?

And then I start looking at my flaws. It’s one trait that I’m proud of, to be so blunt about what’s wrong with myself. I wouldn’t sugarcoat anything. Anyways, what I’m reminded of is way back in January when I had a friend who wanted to kill herself. And I told her not to do it. And yeahh, that’s basically it and you might be wondering what in God’s name is wrong with me. But if you’ve known me well, you’d know that I felt the same way many times before about suicide, sometimes even in the back of my messy and disorderly mind from time to time. So who am I to tell her she can’t take her own life? Am I so conceited and hypocritical to forbid her not to think the same thoughts that I do?

Today, I found out something new about myself: I blog when I’m bored with my life, or if I am at the sheer precipice of depression. It helps me assess my feelings and lets me cool down. Damage control basically. Life all and all for me can be described with a single word: repetitive. Every day I go to the same school, talk about the same things, laugh about the same things, even walk the same route to the parking lot. I’m not a big fan of routine.

Even the library study session, though fun and productive in some aspects, was overall kind of boring. Get there, hang out, eat, study, study, hang out, eat, hang out, go home. What’s the difference between this one and the ones in the past?

That was last Sunday and began at 10:30 when and where I met Martin and Teresa in their car at a parking lot. We waited for Saurav and Kevin to come and then had lunch. Then we hung out in the front entrance of the library until it opened. Like always, we spent around fifteen minutes searching for a quiet place so we can be loud. We studied, then had dinner. Such a failed attempt to escape the mundane. But to be fair, the library trip was as ecstatic as usual. I had fun playing Nam for a day, and everyone had a great time making fun of me and my patriotic sense.

Maybe Nam enjoys being made fun of because he craves attention… that’s just my guess.

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