Diary Page No. 3
= ͟͟͞ ૮ ( ᵕ 𐐫 ᜊ 𐐫 ) っ Hello friends, and welcome to another melodramatic telling of my brain, I've been in my second year of university for two months now and often feel like a plastic bottle afloat. I haven’t learnt much of note and my motivation for academics fluctuates daily. I celebrated completing 20 years of living in the most inornate fashion and studied hard for tests that proved to be fruitless. I’m not generally the sappy nor the philosophical type but I suppose, like everyone else, I wish things had been better—wish that I was better. And yet, as though mentally stuck, I can't be that. But despite this I have managed to convince myself that all will prevail and the things I want will undoubtedly come to me. I think such optimism is the only reason I haven’t thrown myself into the pits of glum. I know, for a fact, I will get to where I want to be one way or another—if I don’t try to make it happen today, there’s the next hour or the minute after that and the se...
