The Last Registration.

Somber and quiet.

Had my last registration today. Ridiculous to think of how many times I played the game of making classes fit into a schedule. I’m pretty much a pro at it by now. There was almost no thought involved today. Two classes. Exercise Measurement and Prescription, the final class for the major, and Speech Fundamental. Repeating that class because of the mini-meltdown I had last semester over the class. That’s it. Two classes.

Chairman of the department smiled when she saw me. I was feeling surreal, so I told her how long I’ve been in college. She said to another student,

“Tim’s pretty smart.”

I’ve had her for two classes. I feel like I can’t remember a professor or teacher ever complimenting me. She thinks I’m smart. A professor holds me in high regard. I feel pride.

She reminded me to file for graduation. I know I have to do that next semester, but out of curiosity I went down to records and registration to find the form. Deadline is February 1st. Incredible.

An ending. An ending. It feels so empty. I’ll have a piece of paper in my hand which says that I’ve satisfied the requirements to obtain that very piece of paper. I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do.

I couldn’t trudge through my research paper immediately, so I went for a walk. In different spots, I could see different events that have happened here. It made me want to make a pilgrimage to Rutgers. As if to apologize for my attitude. That place, as if its a sentient entity, was never given a chance by me.

Millions of people, just living out their lives. I still love observing people as they walk by, or simply observing the very surroundings that most people don’t take time to visually explore.

Sometimes I wonder whether my awesomeness can only be perceived by certain people. I’m not the kind of person to advertise myself. That’s part of my appeal. Is it my modesty that has me not tell people how awesome I am, or is it lack of confidence that keeps me from sharing my awesomeness?

Getting this piece of paper was a goal. Perhaps after I achieve it, I’ll have to set new goals. It’s a thought.

What am I going to do?

I do not know, at this juncture.