Dear July

9

31.07.16

Dear July,

I'm squeezing this last letter in because it doesn't feel right to end without a proper farewell.

I've always hated endings-partly because they're sad, and partly because they mean that something new and unknown will come. I think it's the unknown that scares me more. I'm afraid of letting go and having to face something different, because there's a chance that it could be worse than what I have right now. But I suppose there's also a chance that it could be better.

Today I went to my first university open day. I'll be doing that for the next four weeks-touring university campuses. It's my dream to go to New York, but the realistic people at my high school (or pessimistic, depending on how you see it) think I should apply to universities here in Melbourne, 'just in case'. Well, in the words of Elle Woods: "I don't need back ups. I'm going to Harvard." 

But I digress. Today was a terrifying experience. I was shoved out of the nest and forced to try out my baby wings at the threat of plummeting downwards and being crushed. Yes, it honestly felt like that. There were so many people, and I was all alone, with no idea where to go or who to speak to. There seems to be some secret language that I haven't yet been clued in on, and I don't know the 'right' things to say and ask. But it was helpful, I suppose, in that I decided it wasn't the place for me. I didn't like the subject choices, because there weren't any. I need eight subjects for a major, and they only offer eight subjects for creative writing. And I most certainly do not want to study the finer points of manga, graphic novels and comic books. It's a sad admission, but one that must be noted down, July: not only am I a coffee snob, but also a book snob. My sincerest apologies, and no offence intended, but I simply cannot think of these text styles as 'fine literature'. There is no doubt that there is talent and skill required in creating them, however as to their writing merit, I find it sorely lacking.

And so the search for my elusive future continues. I'll tell you all about it when Tomorrow comes again.

And so, for the last time in a long while,

Until Tomorrow,

E xx