fast lane

I went to Evans today for office hours. I walked into Cody’s office, knowing well enough the reality of how hard I’m going to have to hammer inverses and trigonometric functions in my brain for the next three weeks—just to pass the class. I fucking hate math, man. But regardless, he sat there trying to find the right amount words sensitive enough to tell me just how below average my standing is. It was nice a nice gesture—and I appreciated it—but I mean the fact of the matter is that I needed to hear just how much I have to get my head out of my ass. Three more weeks. That’s really all it’ll take. Three more weeks and a passing grade—then no math forever.

It’s not like math is the worst thing in the world (except I’m going to tell you now that Statistics still haunts me to this day), but no matter how hard I put my time and efforts into it, it just doesn’t translate. It doesn’t flow as easily as oh, I don’t know, trying to discover the abstract, metaphysical crux out of the concrete words in a story or of the many dimensions in a character. Now that shit is fun. Math and numbers though—it gives me this crippling sense of anxiety the deeper I endeavor the mystical pathway that is functions and graphing and everything else in between. It all just boils down to the sheer fact that I’m not wired for this shit, and that’s okay because I at least know math isn’t what I want out of life. But hey for now, whatever, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Anyway, I walked out of Evans with the gray clouds of a “below average grade” over my head, and on my way out, I caught sight of the Hearst Mining Memorial Building (which by the way, is probably one of the most glorious buildings I have ever laid my humble little feet on). I decided that a quick visit wouldn’t hurt, since I’ve only really been there once. And I guess to some extent, it really was a nice little excursion. Eight units of berzerkeley-sized classes has really been challenging me both mentally and physically, and I really appreciated the time to smell the roses—or I guess in this case, look at pretty bricks and arcs and lights and shit, haha. I stood across the vast indoor balcony and basked my eyes at the majestic and monumental edifice that surrounded me. So I guess I was sort of reflecting at the moment. But I mean, I couldn’t help it—cosmic landscapes just have a way of taking me away. Then somehow, in between my panoramic admiration of the entire place, I landed on the thought of wanting the inside walls of my brains to look like this—a serene arcadia of grand proportions (and you know what, I’m going to make that happen with or without math—fuck you, math. Haha.).

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