I have finally fully digested and accepted (or so I like to believe) that I will study at the University of Chicago for the next four years of my life. On a global scale, four years are merely a breeze, a blink of an eye, but I am in years, merely so, a pale leaf whirled about by this great winds. I am excited to jump into adulthood with such a challenge, both intellectual and personal, but there are always buts.
Great hopes and expectations, and doubts and fears are equally distributed in my dreams for the future. I desire to grow into the person that I dream of becoming, and leaving home is by necessity part of the whole package. I have felt many things that I didn't think I would, prompting me to read more into my inner and unconscious thoughts. Homesickness, or the very thought of predicted homesickness is, sadly, very real.
I am reading literature and math, trying to figure out what Love is in a relationship (capitalized to avoid forgetting), and gathering forces to lose all fears.
I end this short update, hopefully with more to come (as always, I strive to write more, but never quite strike), with a small poem by John Keats, always lyrical and evocative:
‘O thou whose face hath felt the Winter’s wind;
Whose eye has seen the Snow clouds hung in Mist
And the black-elm tops ’mong the freezing Stars
To thee the Spring will be a harvest-time—
O thou whose only book has been the light
Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on
Night after night, when Phoebus was away
To thee the Spring shall be a tripple morn—
O fret not after Knowledge—I have none
And yet my song comes native with the warmth
O fret not after Knowledge—I have none
And yet the Evening listens—He who saddens
At thought of Idleness cannot be idle,
And he’s awake who thinks himself asleep.’
