College is supposed to help me, right? But why do I feel like it’s holding me back?
Instead of writing short stories to get my name out there, I’m writing essays over British poems in the Romantic era. Instead of editing my novel more, I’m learning about different Japanese grammar points. I’m not making connections in the writing world. Instead, I’m worried about my two handwritten finals.
In a way, college is great. I love my creative writing workshops. I’ve been told by a few people that my writing has improved since I got here. I see that too sometimes. It’s great to be around other writers with their own perspectives and knowledge.
That greatness is only a fraction of my college career though.
I want more time to work on my short stories and novels. If I had more time to work on my blog, perhaps I can get my name out there more. But time is against me until the next school break.
But life is not white or black; life is gray. It’s not one or the other, but a mixture of both. College has to be that way too. Gray. I’ll take college being gray over nothing at all.