To save this blog from oblivion I suppose I should post my recent writings.
I think from now on my blogs will be 'imported.'

There was certainly something about that room that tingled the senses. It mocked the atmosphere of a former grandiose that was humbled. As a classroom it did well to intimidate its occupants. Futuristic windows and sleek furnishings created a very collegiate air. The spaced out tables formed an archipelago of islands set against the dark blue background of the carpet. The inhabitants had unconsciously grouped themselves within each tiny landmass in accordance to their academic capabilities. To think of the irony, it would have been very cruel if that had been the distribution in the wild. But then again, book smarts does not always equal street smarts.

To some that atmosphere was home. Perhaps in a prelude to Ivy League acceptances and midnight discussions about Chaucer, that bunch had embraced the academic gold mine it claimed to be. For sure, their hearts did not quicken at the possibility of failure for it did not, nor would it ever, happen to them. In zen-nature speak, they had become one with their surroundings.

The place no doubt suited the rigors of the reputable class but the extent of the weight of the course was gracefully executed by the one in command. The 'captain' established ambitious parameters for every pupil that has ever walked into her class and in doing so rolled the burdens and pressures of being a student into a neatly stacked inverted pyramid on your head. 'Potential' became the word to fear. Expectations grew to great heights. To balance that pyramid throughout the whole period would be impressive; the load only gets wider and heavier with time.

It was always tricky to discern exactly what was expected of you there. At times, you are confident you can read the signs and avoid Madame Le Guillotine but that confidence is usually always quickly deflated. It was for me, anyway.

If it was anything with the brighter stars and 'natural-born' leaders it was their pragmatism, which I daresay, I admire a great deal. To abandon an recondite state of mind and think within the boundaries of rationality was something to revel in. And though scorned by 'true idealists,' you can not deny the successes which were borne from living in that theory. It certainly did not hurt their cause.

Sometimes I wonder if everything said within the confinement of the course really is to be believed. The captain has to be optimistic to keep the crew on board with the mission and avoid any mutinies, naturally, but to a point she must be ruthlessly brutal with her honesty. Surely, she does not truly believe we all have the capabilities of 'making it'... whatever that means.

To those of us on this side of the line, our existence becomes precarious. Our dreams are so wildly creative and optimistic they border on absurdity. We undermine the nature of our errors secretly to ourselves after thoroughly berating them with our peers. Disappointment becomes a fairly useful word to describe our mental state at any point on our emotional range. Any return of assignments becomes a weekly ritual of dread and panic. The nonchalant attitude must be at the surface at all times, but inside the blood rushes in anticipation for numbers that could ruin the day's outlook and words that will diffuse the ecstasy of a light-hearted, naive hope welling up inside you. After more than enough in failures, decampment is still not permitted. So the bitterness is swallowed and the cycle of hopefulness and despair begins once more.

To what extent can this demanding world be tolerated inside an abstract mind? To what point can it be said that the reason for failure is only within the faults and weaknesses of those pursuing this path? If one person is able, does it really mean all others have no excuse? As one who is not particularly susecptible to any 'encouragement' and will not be moved by any pushes except those that are derived internally, I must say that the world is always at blame (thus the reason I am even writing this, true?)

If nothing else, I am kept sane by the anticipation for that sudden burst of freedom; the exodus from such a repressive and stifling environment.

The bright, blue skies of the real world beckon for an abandonment of structure and rational thought, but for the moment my only adventures lie within the imaginary ocean of navy blue carpet.