So it’s 1:30 a.m. I’m stressing out. I’m inspired. I want to write my college essays and get some what back on track with everything. I should be sleeping. I’m starting to really feel this time crunch and I think I’m finally stepping out of this almost zombie-like state I’ve been in for the past year. Make that years. I can’t really describe or explain everything but I need to get it out. This is totally starting to get real and I’m nervous. Not in starting a new phase in my life, rather the start not going according to plan. It’s funny because there is no plan at all. I’ve been a zombie. Zombies don’t plan. Still, I have expectations I’ve been formulating since I started high school and I’m petrified I’m not going to meet them. I’ve built this up for years, leaving New fucking Jersey and all the twats and assholes here. I don’t want to be like my friends, the past graduates, everyone around me. I can’t. For the longest time and probably still today, I’ve been perceived as a pessimist because I’m miserable here. While that may be true, the label I’ve gotten from that couldn’t be further from the truth. I have so much hope, so much curiosity, so much good faith in the world, but I’ve lost it for here. I want to get out to find what I’m looking for. I know there’s so much out there, I can’t be trapped in this town anymore. I’m so excited and scared. I have less than a month to present myself the best I possibly could or I’m not going to get where I want, where I need to go. Shit. Okay.