Thursday, July 18, 2019
My First Day of College :: Autobiography Essay, Personal Narrative
ââ¬Å"College is nothing but high school with ashtrays.â⬠My friend Ron left me with this original piece of advice before I left for college on August 30th. In the weeks following, this clichà © would seem prophetic. It would not, however, be accurate today. It was September 1st, and I was officially a college freshman. All my dreams were to be realized. The halls would be paved with intellectuals, and the walls would be plastered with philosophers. State College was my Ellis Island. It would be a far cry from my high school, whose halls were paved with punks and whose walls were plastered with simpletons. The entire student body would be eager to debate and discuss the Bible, politics, philosophy ââ¬â everything that I love to talk about. ââ¬Å"State College is Platoââ¬â¢s academy reincarnated,â⬠I thought to myself as I kicked and hopped my way into my left pant leg. No one could convince me otherwise. All of these things were true. They had to be: this is colle ge. No nervous stomach, no second thoughts ââ¬â just an anxious heart. By 10 p.m. on August 31st, I was in bed. ââ¬Å"You are going to be ready on Wednesday,â⬠I said to myself. Granted, my first class did not start until eleven, and I had not gone to sleep earlier than two in the morning all summer. But I felt as if I had to be in bed by ten. Time always seems to be the tortoise when you want it to be the hare. That was one of the many thoughts taking refuge in my mind as the clock ticked past 11:59 p.m. As the first hour began, I lay motionless on my bed of rocks. During this time, I became eerily familiar with my new ceiling. Its flawed construction, rippled paint, and simple off-white hue comforted me. These otherwise unnoticeable imperfections reminded me of home. Earlier that month, I exclaimed to my mother how eager I was to escape from the penitentiary that I called home, and now I was having nostalgic thoughts about it. I laughed at the glaring irony and slowly drifted to sleep. By 10:45 a.m., I joined the procession of pupils on my way to my first college class. Uniformity among the masses seemed like one of the many luxuries that freshmen were not deemed worthy to have. (Kindness from most upper-classmen was one of the others that stood out on that day.
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