If you’re seeing this, you’re probably stalking my Facebook, cause the only way you’ll find this site is by looking at my posts from ages ago, which means you already know just about as much about me as I’d ever post on the internet. Or you’re Conner, who is probably the only person who both cares about me enough to read my writing and knows that I publish any of it. Whoop.
Anyway, I’m a junior physics major at Texas A&M University (gig ’em, whoop, fight ’em, all that stuff), I really like Star Wars, and all I want to do in life is be stupidly and stereotypically domestic and stay home, bake pies, clean stuff, and read books. But that’ll happen when hell freezes over and I somehow have license to sell tickets to go ice skating on its surface and I make several hundred million dollars. Until then, I’ll probably end up having a job in physics, where every day is basically taking my brain and chunking it against a brick wall until hopefully something helpful pops out. Physics is amazing, and astounding, and astonishing, atomic and astronomical at the same time. I love it. But I do not enjoy learning it at the level I’ve reached, and it sucks, and I want to quit, but I can’t because scholarships and jobs and expectations and plans are prisons we lock ourselves in, and I built myself an Alcatraz. So I’ll be stuck here, for another three semesters at a school I care only moderateley about, in a major I’m not smart enough to understand and am slowly failing in, with no friends that I can actually talk to about anything of any substance. Whoop indeed.
So you, the random person reading my blog, which will probably be no one ever, (and I can check the number of views, so I’ll know), that’s where I’m at. That’s more real than I am with most people in my life, face-to-face. That’s who I actually am. Thanks for listening.