So I'm putting to rest another week of same old, same old. I got the most confusing package in the mail today about my application to Finger Lakes. I didn't understand a lick of it. It came with contradictory instruction and none of the forms I should have receive, but then again I'm probably reading it wrong. I tend to do that. Included in the stuff I have to fill out is an English proficiency form, which I have to get filled out by a certified speaker of english or some random thing like that. The form looks like something out of the 60s, clearly creaded on a typewriter and littered with sexist language. So I'm waiting for my academic councellor to get back to me on this one. God bless e-mails save me from having to engage in the dreaded human interaction.
It appears that for this application I have to write yet another biographical essay. I have no desire to do this. I never know what to write about myself, I can only imagine it would sounds something like this: I am 23 from a family of four. I drifted through highschool and university doing no more than the bare minimum to get by. My life is fill with projects and ideas I have started and never complete. I worked part-time my last year of highschool and worked summer jobs throughout university. I have yet to do volunteer my time, opting to sit on my ass and beat myself up over how I never do anything because I'm so shy and anxious all the time. It is for the above reasons that I would make a good Chiropractor. P.S. I used to collect PEZ dispensers.
Seriously though, I have a 1/4 finished friendship bracelet I was making for MYSELF the summer before I went to Western, that was 5 years ago. I have a story I started writing in grade six and another I began in graded 11 or 12, each no longer than a dozen or so pages. All these things could have been part of who I am, but I suppose I am unfinished. Uncompleted, undefined. I am un. I am something, but I am not anything. I know I am not that friendship bracelet, or those stories, or the sport and clubs I never joined. I am without a completion to any chapter in my life, no resolve and nothing gained.
Is the story of my life that I don't finish what I start? Is it that I lie about who I am? Is it that I ramble manically about whats wrong with me, knowing full well nothing needs to be fixed?
I want to be someone that finishes things.
It appears that for this application I have to write yet another biographical essay. I have no desire to do this. I never know what to write about myself, I can only imagine it would sounds something like this: I am 23 from a family of four. I drifted through highschool and university doing no more than the bare minimum to get by. My life is fill with projects and ideas I have started and never complete. I worked part-time my last year of highschool and worked summer jobs throughout university. I have yet to do volunteer my time, opting to sit on my ass and beat myself up over how I never do anything because I'm so shy and anxious all the time. It is for the above reasons that I would make a good Chiropractor. P.S. I used to collect PEZ dispensers.
Seriously though, I have a 1/4 finished friendship bracelet I was making for MYSELF the summer before I went to Western, that was 5 years ago. I have a story I started writing in grade six and another I began in graded 11 or 12, each no longer than a dozen or so pages. All these things could have been part of who I am, but I suppose I am unfinished. Uncompleted, undefined. I am un. I am something, but I am not anything. I know I am not that friendship bracelet, or those stories, or the sport and clubs I never joined. I am without a completion to any chapter in my life, no resolve and nothing gained.
Is the story of my life that I don't finish what I start? Is it that I lie about who I am? Is it that I ramble manically about whats wrong with me, knowing full well nothing needs to be fixed?
I want to be someone that finishes things.
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