As I play the Turnabout Sisters 2005 theme from Ace Attorney and listen to the upbeat tune, I try to recall the easy times of my life – the time where I didn’t have to worry about anything, I didn’t have to worry about the next day.

There is really one memorable moment in my life where I can recall being truly free. It was not in Japan, for I was constrained by time and equipment then. (Having to carry a passport and money pouch inside my clothes, along with a flimsy blue backpack, I would consider to be rather constraining.) It was not any time during high school, for I was constrained and controlled by the rigid bell schedule that killed many opportunities for me.

And time, too, also constrains the writing of this post, so I must make this rather short. It was in 2006. I was very tired and I was watching my brother play Tekken against the computer, in training mode, trying to learn the combos. He was playing on my uncle’s projector, while I remained cognitively incapable, it seems, to actually remember any combos for anything longer than a few seconds. But it didn’t matter: dazedly watching my brother play was fun enough for me

I remember few moments of true timelessness. I probably experienced this same feeling a few times at the end of a retreat, but usually it would be for a few seconds, too short for me to grasp the emotion and hold it in my hand for me to examine and reproduce.

And the truth is that college is nowhere near heaven. I thought to myself that everything would magically improve when I started a college life. Indeed, things changed – but within the status quo, and perhaps not for the better.

I’m not having fun. It’s overwhelmingly large. If I meet someone, chances are very low I’ll find the person again the next day, or the day after that. But the size is at a sweet spot where coincidences do tend to occur interestingly frequently. Yet, my pessimistic mind does not work on coincidences, so they serve merely to annoy me.

Now it’s 10:56 and I’m out of time. I have to finish writing and I’m not done. Now it will be 11:00 and I will be back on the cycle of rigid 7.5-hour sleep. I do homework whenever I’m not at some random club meeting, leaving absolutely no time to do any real projects at any given day.

I wish I could just ease the load on myself. I feel like I lose hair every time I lose a point on a homework problem. I calculated that there is not enough money in my meal plan to make it through the whole year, so I’m conserving as much money as possible, you guessed it, by eating as little as possible. My dad will probably say something like “but don’t worry about the money!” even though it does matter.

Friends have screwed me over; I screwed myself over. Heck, today I really screwed myself over by forgetting to go to an important meeting for my department-assigned small-group. The penalty for not doing so is losing the opportunity to hear whatever important thing the mentor wishes to say, which is often very useful because it is geared specifically toward us freshmen and relates to mistakes the mentor has done himself.

After all of these times of being screwed over, my mind doesn’t think forgiveness, it thinks “trust no one.” If I never give anyone an opportunity to fail, then I will never give myself an opportunity to further disappoint myself. Don’t trust people with money. Don’t trust people to give me a ride. Don’t trust people to write good, clean code. Don’t trust people to do a good job making anything. Don’t trust people to care about me. Don’t trust people to come to anything. Don’t trust people to try to have a relationship with me. Don’t trust people to be near me, lest I snap back at them and hurt them.

The facets of my life I literally dream I had never materialize. “The right person” never comes to assist me. No one really cares enough to help me solve my problems. Those counselor appointments, are they helping? – no they’re not, these people are bogged down listening to people’s problems daily. They are nothing more than mere sounding boards at this point. I just talk and talk to him and he just nods his head and sometimes gives a little frown or a “Hmm.” as if some unfortunate event was so painful for me. But it is not painful for me, because I have at this point just conditioned myself to take a pessimistic attitude to most things. And his lines of dialogue are basically grouping events up or drawing parallels as if my life were some big book. I tell him that I’m antisocial and I really don’t know why. There is some repulsive force that I don’t understand, a force that repulses me from society, and that seems to be the root cause of everything.

I’m just waiting for the stars to align at this point…

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