present/future.

In retrospect:

If the peak of my life’s worth is Stanford, then that is a sad life. If the most exciting part about myself and the chronology of my life is at the age of twenty-three ergo the year that Stanford took place, then I am pathetic. If Stanford is the indicator to which the scale that ‘interesting’ is measured in my life and myself as a person, then I have not yet lived a life worth telling and remembering.

If Stanford is the end, and not the means, then I am going against every single belief I have developed before coming here. If Stanford is the definition of who I am as a person and professionally, as an environmental engineer, then I am not honoring the wisdom gained and humility borne from my undergraduate years and alma mater. If Stanford is the crux of my existence, then I am merely a figment of an imagination – an illusion.

Will the school remember me, or will I remember it? Will those hallways and discrete study spaces carry my name, or will my memories sustain them? Will each person I have met here remember me, or will they continue to live a thousand different lives through my stories? Will they – each person and every nook and crevice – remember me, or will they live on in my continual remembrance of the year that once was?

You and I both know the answers to these questions. Of course it’ll be all me – that’s just how it is.

If the peak of my life is at twenty-three, and the reason is, of all things, grad school, then that is a sad life indeed.

That’s a life not yet lived.

If the best is the best simply because it is the best – yawn, how extremely boring.

(Girl, you still know nothing)

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “present/future.

    1. I totally relate, though in hindsight I find that feeling small puts things in perspective – a good thing because it forces me to not grow attachment to something or someone so tightly that letting go feels impossible.

      (or maybe I’m just too skeptical)

Don't Hold Back! Share Your Thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s