One Year and Three Thousand Miles

May 07, 2008 - 23:18 PM PST

So that's it. That was the game point. Finals? Check. Papers? Check. Sanity? Check? Freshman year is over and I'm trying to assess my year. With all of its ups and downs, all of the moments I came close to the edge but never fell off, it's been an interesting and difficult ride. But to say that my year was rough but that I survived doesn't seem to do my year justice. So maybe a better way to assess my year is by assessing myself. Am I different? Am I better person? Am I more open? More intelligent? More social? And to be honest with myself, I might have to say that I don't feel like a particularly different person here. There are small differences. I've opened up to someone and she's been amazing at helping me shape some of my more chaotic thoughts. She's the one that has told me to keep writing and is always first to see my writing. But I've been so stressed with schoolwork and track this semester I've barely written.
*tangent alert*
I write for myself but I really do love it when I get feedback from people. I really go into my writing this past semester but as it progressed, I've virtually stopped. I'm actually concerned that my creativity as left me for someone who has the time to take care of it. I sat down and wrote out a scene from a new screenplay that I've been thinking about for for a few weeks and although its still rough, I feel like its lacking that spark that I've felt in my past work. Maybe I'm just waiting for some peace and loneliness that will come along the summer.
*and now we're back*
At times I'm almost disappointed in myself for not having a stereotypical freshman year. My group of friends is small and fragmented. I'm fairly anti-social as far as college goes (I eat most of my meals alone). I don't stay up late, I don't sleep in. I probably can count the number of drinks I've had all year with both hands. Not that most of these stereotypes really pertain to me and not that I want to piss-ass drunk every weekend. I just wish that sometimes I could stand up and just do something. I mean, I'm in Los Angeles, I'm far from Boston, it's time for me to get out there and live just a little bit.
After a year here, I'm not sure I really feel at home. Maybe it's natural and it's something that every college student has to discover, but nothing feels permanent. Is my heart still in Boston with all of my close friends that I've spent so many years of my life with? Am I still pining for something (or someone?) back home? I'm not even sure if I act like myself here. It's more like everyone I know sees an inch of the real me. I'm not a complicated guy, but I like to think that I'm not just all laughs and gone-too-far sexual references. I want people to know that I'm a thinker, a pseudo-writer, a self-inflicted social hermit who overcompensates by being loud and talkative, that I'm hopelessly searching for the kind of love you see in the movies even though I know that I'll never find it (is that sad?).
So where am I after a year? I'm 3000 miles from home, my musical taste has shifted slightly to more independent stuff and I'm more willing to write (and share that writing). To be honest, this year hasn't done much for me but, at the same time, I think next year is going to be a big year for me. Starting this summer, I'm diving more into writing and film. I'm going to actively try and loosen up and be open to more people. I've spent a lot of time working on being honest with myself so I guess it's time that I be honest with everyone else.