To have told my secret would have given me away – made a mere show and rarity of me.
The book: Invisible Man by H.G. Wells
Oh, my. I’ve already begun my second, and final year of my master’s program here at NYU Wagner. It’s been a melange of anticipation, anxiety, and also awe. I’m in awe my time in NYC has already passed its midway point, but also that I’m still here, still alive, and still committed to the program.
The second year anywhere is always better than the first. Anywhere. The second year is when you no longer have any excuses to yourself. The second year is when you really feel your place, when you’ve formed those relationships that will sustain you, and when you can just go forward.
I’m using the universal ‘you’ here, but obviously I’m talking about myself. I originally started this blog as a means of remembering events past, but spent very little time living in the present. I spent 9 months writing about everything else except what was happening now. It’s a weird reconciliation with yourself to simultaneously appreciate the past while breathing in the present.
Honestly, I think I want to mark this occasion because I feel things changing. You know, when you just feel it. Everything else could be just as it always was, but something inside you is different. I’ve been holding onto something, terrified. Somehow I don’t want to hold onto it anymore.
End, Memory Thirty Three.
Next week: Change by Design by Tim Brown