I have been fervently researching Geneseo and New Paltz over the past two days, trying to scrounge up as much information about them as possible. Yesh, I've decided on Geneseo, but I took the immunization form sent to my house from New Paltz as a sign that maybe I should look into them a bit more. Geneseo is still winning because I've actually seen that campus and the surrounding area, so I know what I'm getting myself into. I've been comparing distances from home--and NP obv. wins for being closer but is that what I want? Yes three hours is further than the forty minutes from Patchogue to Hempstead...but still. Seven hours sounds nice, along with the trees and grass and waterfalls. The Hofstra campus has trees and grass, but twenty steps away is a bustling turnpike with too much noise and scents and fears and dangers. I still fear that I will be hit by a car on this campus one day.
Researching both, Geneseo is my choice. I just have to tell my parents now. I told them that New Paltz was my option prior to this decision, so now I have to re-tell them that I'm going to Geneseo because it's further from everything. I guess it's like running from shit, but I'd like to see it as temporarily hiding, ya know? I can come home for holidays...yippee, right? And, as mentioned, I can leave if I wanna...or if I have to?
I sit here in the museum. Alone. And this is by far the dumbest time for me to work; the museum is closed because we're putting up new exhibits and no visitors are allowed. So I sit here like a douche guarding the paintings from the non-existent visitors. I woke up at 8:30am this Friday morning to sit in an empty room with humming radiators and music. I can't complain because I'm essentially getting paid to go online for seven hours. But I have no human contact unless it's my boss or the cleaning guy and I have my own thoughts and that becomes dangerous after a while. If I'm by myself too long I think too much and when I think too much, I am sullen and moody because I tend to overthink myself and the people in it. I hate myself for the ways that I do things, or how I should do things differently--and I hate others around me for keeping me like this when I want to be that. Putrid thoughts I have, I really do. So I write. And even this blogging bull shit can be dangerous because I can't totally express myself because people read this and I can't write negatively if I'm venting about them. And it sits and waits patiently to explode.
So I sit here in this chair and stare at empty walls, and admire the paintings resting up against the empty walls, dying to be hung up and presented for the world to see. From what I've seen, it's really unique and colorful and what's depicted is impressive. I think I'll like this one :).
My urban culture and identity class finally ended yesterday. Now I have philosophy. I plan on taking a day off from that class; in all six other courses, I was never absent once, and I feel like I need to play hookie at least once. It's not fair that my roommates can miss days and it won't matter, while, if I do, my grade drops. Bull fucking shit, son. And apparently this professor doesn't care too much, so I shall shop and spend money on spring clothes, maybe at Fulton Street Mall, and I will love Brooklyn and fall in love with my gold-toofed gangstas again. Without surveys this time! wo_0t.
I still have a seven page paper to write. I dont know where to even begin, so I think I'll just not think about it until Sunday morning. Yeah. I like that idea.
Dude, I gotta be doin' some shit. I might return shortly.
Peace and love.
But I got to get me out of here
This place is full of dirty old men
And the navigators with their mappy maps
And moldy heads and pissing on sugarcubes
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