I'm back at uni right now, just for a bit. No classes of course, just the sandstone and the rain.
I love this place, but I can only assume that in feeling this way I'm suffering from some kind of Stockholm Syndrome. It hasn't been an easy five years, but I can't say I'd rather have spent them anywhere else. My captor has soothed me with old paper and stone, offered me thoughts to sate my curiosities, and tied me up with 5 years of debt that would be useless if I left now.
Sometimes I wish I was potential Ph.D. material. Sometimes... when everything else in life seems even more torturous and less well-defined.
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