Sunday, 22 March 2015

ucas kiss my ass

I don’t think I actually have a problem with UCAS itself (I probably do somewhere in the depths of my mind) but I needed a catchy title for my rant about applying for and going to university.

It’s so weird watching all your friends and people our age all over  twitter/tumblr/facebook/ect apply for university and get all their offers (or rejections lol represent) through on the UCAS system. I go to quite a high achieving school so being surrounded by people who are so bright when I'm so mediocre is really difficult sometimes.

I was just talking to one of my close friends about all this and she read me a poem about Paris that went something like “with someone, the city, or yourself/you will fall in love with Paris” and that’s the most poetic shit (in the nicest meaning of the word) I've ever read and it’s really nice to hear something that reminds you that the world’s not as bad as you sometimes think it is.

Every so often everything gets a bit suffocating and I need a little reassurance that, although it may feel like it, in the real world not everything is totally falling apart. Getting stressed about university is understandable when you’ve got offers waiting for you to respond to - but you really shouldn’t rush it. As much as it’s tempting to log into UCAS, reject 3 offers and accept 2 in a rush of spontaneity; I'm trying my best not to. But where do you draw the line between that and choosing a university based on your gut instinct which I feel that you should follow sometimes?? I'm not sure and I definitely don’t have the answers right now, but maybe in a few months I’ll have some answers.

At the same party that I talked about in my last post, I was busy observing everyone and, after doing some twitter research, seeing the same boy who was off his tits on weed post a picture of his acceptance letter from Sheffield for History made me think. I had that moment as I sat in my Harrington sipping my lemonade, about how I’m in the background of everyone else’s life. There were at least 50 people (probably more) at this party and to see each of them doing their own thing, even the people I knew, was really weird because tomorrow they’ll be back in class writing up notes because in September they’ve got places to be. It was an interesting observation that I didn’t dwell upon until today when I started thinking about how close university actually is. I'm trying to see it as this big adventure that’s like the next step in my life (I've just been sick on my keyboard at how bad that cliché was) but it’s a bit difficult sometimes.

I guess that sorting things out, whether it be travelling on a year out, applying for uni, or just getting your shit together, is something we’re all doing right now. That doesn’t mean that you feeling anxious or stressed out is made any less important just because everyone else is going through it. I'm so lucky to have some amazing friends around me who have my back when family doesn’t. And that’s really what's important. When you're on your deathbed, you're going to be thinking about that holiday in Jamaica when you were 21 or the dread for revision classes as exams draw closer or the friendships you made at college or online. I think it’s these little things that really matter and I want to (somehow) remember them all.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to have a less emotive, less scrawly, and quite frankly a less pathetic version of my journal that I carry around with me. I think it’s become something that gives a good reflection of my time as an adolescent. Like, I'm never going to be this age again and I'm quite happy that I've taken the initiative to record what it’s like to be a miserable 18 year old kid in 2015. I hope that one day I’ll be able to stumble across this URL or find my little journals with their spines falling off and read it and be able to look back. It might be cool to have some little tear-stained pages with messy, emotive writing on titled WHY CANT I DRAW THINGS AS PRETTY AS I SEE THEM? But then again it may not be so cool when a 30 year old mouldy leaf falls out from page 19.

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