Four years of university done, my time is now up. Time really does start to go Ben Johnson speeds when you pass 18. Despite only just returning home, the memories of the city feel so distant. From Hiragana to prose, wearing cowboy hats while silently waiting for a speaking test to writing and directing a video involving topless men and pirate hats, a lot has happened. And there was always a hat somewhere in the fray. The first half feels more like a dream than a memory, I certainly have no recollection of the second year. Did I really live with a flat full of LIPA students? No wonder I erased it from my mind. And threw a melon out of the window. I had some issues.
I went into Uni naive and came out numb. Comfortably? Painfully? A bit in between.