I've been recording my thoughts, feelings, and freakouts here for more than two years. When I go back and read through the archives, most of it makes me cringe. However, I think it is good to have these strata by which to measure how far I've come. Some days, not far. Other days, leaps and bounds. I've thought of letting go, giving up, slowly slinking away. No one reads this but me. Well, me and Meredith (hi Meredith!). Still I blunder on, tappety-tapping away, hoping that some day writing all this crap down will help me. I think this will prove to be especially true for graduate school. I'll be able to look back, once the program is over, (assuming that I finish it--fingers crossed) and see what I was like when I first started. Moving to a new city in a new state and starting over at a new school is scary. I feel kind of like a first grader with a credit card. I imagine there will be a lot of freakout posts, at least in the beginning. I can't promise that my writing will improve much, if at all. I can only hope I grow, learn, and bloom, and vow that I will not go gentle into that good night.
"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Dylan Thomas
