I’ve been hammering myself over the head with outlines for days on end. Nothing quite like the brutal efficiency of class ranking to get boots on the ground. I spend so much time in this library that I feel as though I own the place. At least a square foot of it. Maybe I’ll pull up a square of this commercial carpet upon graduation and frame it. It’d mean more than the damn diploma. At least to me.
The mood here is grim. The work load huge. The game afoot. First final, December third. The rest will come quickly on the heels of that first monster, a blur of fists striking my body. The raptors always go for the eyes. And the soul. Soon, I will feel nothing at all.
But, for now, I like this image.