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  • The Midnight Library written by Matt Haig
    By: Destiny Breniser   What if you had the chance to live another life instead of the one you are currently living? This story turns the idea of a multiverse on its head centered on what happens when you die.  This book was published in 2020 with its genre being science fiction. The place you go when […]
  • They Both Die at the End – General Review
    Summer break is the perfect opportunity to get back into reading. Adam Silvera’s (2017) novel, They Both Die at the End, can serve as a stepping stone into the realm of reading. The pace is fast, action-packed, and develops loveable characters. Also, Silvera switches point of view each chapter where narration mainly focuses on the protagonists, […]

College life has done very little to quell my inner child

I’ve had the opportunity to talk to some college-graduated persons whom I know from my hometown and most of them have described college as a time for immature high school kids to receive university-level educations, to get involved in student organizations and have fun, and to become more mentally and emotionally mature in their lives.

For the most part, I agree with these ideas: I’ve received a pretty good college education so far (based on my 1 school year and .5 summers here at BGSU), and I’ve had too much fun with goofy stuff and student organizations.

But maturity?

No. No way at all.

In my opinion, I think I’ve actually taken a few steps backwards on the maturity scale. Right now, I’d rank my mental maturity level as that of a prepubescent nine-year-old boy who plays with Legos and Nerf toys.

‘Cuz I still like Legos and Nerf toys. In fact, I think I’ll construct a small armada of ships from my Lego collection when I go back home after this next six-week session “

I’m not saying that college doesn’t make people more mature. In fact, a small handful of people whom I know have changed significantly after merely one or two years of higher education, evidence of college’s potential to mature people.

But in my particular case, I fall in with the crowd of kids who will probably mature very little (at least, demeanor-wise) over four years of post-secondary education.

Or, maybe I’ll do a 180 and start wearing a business suit everywhere! (Wait, that’s a stereotype. Crap.)

Don’t get me wrong; I do believe that I could change a great deal in the years to come.

If other college graduates are substantial evidence (which they are), then I could theoretically turn into a mature person by the time I graduate.

OH NO!

But for Charles Bronson’s sake, I’m merely a college sophomore with a face that won’t grow facial hair, a Frankenstein-ed bike instead of a sweet conversion van and a paltry 38 credit hours under my belt. On one hand, I don’t really think I’m ready to properly guess what kind of person I’ll be in 2.8 years from now.

On the other hand, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be sure of anything relating to my college career, because my mind refuses to mature! I’ve had people tell me that I’m still stuck in high school! It’s a very real possibility that I could remain a bewildered kid with a pre-college mentality for the rest of my maturity-absent life.

Or maybe I’ll get a grip and suck it up. Much of the time, I over-philosophize. I do it WAY TOO MUCH. Even in ordinary conversations over insignificant matters, I’ll be getting in touch with my inner Rene Descartes, thinking:

“Can I be sure that I’m really talking to this person? Can I be sure that I actually remembered to put pants on today? Does my stomach really exist, or is this vaguely painful feeling stemming from my abdomen merely an emotion-turned physical sensation used by the midget goblin robots who inhabit my large intestine to tell me to feed them in order to keep them running so they don’t shut down my body’s homeostasis “”

See what I mean? I think about unimportant crap all the time. Even when I’m dreaming, I wonder if that Emeril guy has surreptitiously entered my dorm room in order to rig it with pesto-based explosives to ensure a most delicious death on my part when I choose to slither out of bed in the morning!

But do such thoughts make me immature, or are they merely an outlet I use to get out the angst, frustration, giddiness and borderline insanity (and let’s not forget the feverish hunger-driven desire to soar out into the cosmos utilizing angel wings made of flaming chocolate to allow flight) that everyone feels every day of every week of every year of every lifetime?

I can’t be sure.

But I will say that flying out into the cosmos with angel wings composed of flaming Swiss dark chocolate would be better than having cake for breakfast.

” And I really like cake.

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