First off, I absolutely refuse to have my summary include the generic phrase: "A story about [blank], [something annoyingly hipstery like sculpted beards] and learning to dance in the rain." Because this story is not generic. In fact, it's not even a story: it's the genuine reality of my life. I've found over time that the best way to confront my feelings is by writing down. So here you have it. The tragic(ly hilarious) story of a university student, in the form of a religious guide (If deities had a sense of humour?).
8 parts