I know I've been busy lately, and I know you're getting tired of always waiting around for me. Surely the long nights of studying and the endless daylight hours of classes are getting exhausting, undoubtedly your patience is wearing thin. Though I scribble when I can and, admittedly, even when I cannot, I know you're tired. I know I've kept you waiting. Promise after promise of fidelity ending in lonely nights spent alone, waiting with increasing despair for that next phone call, blog post, chapter...
Night chases sunsets into the west, midterms stalk leisure hours. How can creativity thrive in this place called university? When every spare hour is spent pouring over Schopenhauer, Montaigne, logic, truth tables, Wordsworth, Dante, Notker, what chance has my fairest fantasy? Every thought, word - poetry or prose - argument, description inspires from these masters, yet there is no outlet, nor hope of one.
So I plead with you, fair world, allow me my time. I will return to my words, I will attend my studies, but my heart shall be with you always, through all.
Fairest and Fondest Farewell,
(Oh, right. Those studies? Totally eating my life like a dessert. Gulping mercilessly. And the hours when my brain hurts, those times I need an escape? Well... shall we say my nerd factor has gone up a whole 30%? Yes, you read that right. 30% - it's ridiculous. And why...?)