Today, I attended what may very well be my last face-to-face undergraduate class — not just for the semester, but maybe for my entire college life. Not maybe . I hope . I pray . I need it to be the last one. As I walked out of that classroom, I was hit with a flood of emotions. Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to cover it. There’s still so much uncertainty. I have three major requirements left , and I honestly don’t know if I’ll make it. I’m praying — to every god and force out there — please, help me graduate this semester. It feels so surreal to be here. I started college twelve years ago . Twelve years. That’s a lifetime of starting, stopping, falling behind, trying again. And now, as I stand at the edge of what I hope is the finish line, I’m feeling a mix of fear, hope, nostalgia, and exhaustion . "What happens if I don’t make it this time? What do I do? What face do I have left to show?" Despite the fear, I know there are still things I can do. I can still give i...
a little corner of the internet where I turn thoughts into words and moments into stories. Here, you’ll find personal essays, poetry, reflections, opinions, and the occasional rambling thought that refuses to stay in my head. It’s a collection of the things I notice, feel, question, believe, and learn along the way. Some words are written to be shared. Others are simply written to be understood. This is where I keep them both.