I'm writing this on my knees. Literally.

My room is (partially) packed and my desk chair is supporting a bag of stuffed animals. (Sidenote: does anyone else ever feel like they're causing their beloved squishy tender friends suffocation by shoving them into a constricting sphere of plastic?)

My school-related graduation receptions are complete, as is the family-induced humilation that necessarily accompanies such events.

All that's left is to sit for four hours, walk across a stage, hand over a gift, smile for a picture, and have it sink in that I am FOREVER done with my undergraduate life. Wow. Of course, the diploma comes later, but that's all beaurocratic nonsense.

In the midst of this culmination of four years of mental expansion (thought: perhaps I'll try to think about each year of school during each hour. Or, I'll read a book borrowed from J.O.), I've been struck to discover still new things about myself -- you'd think I'd have learned this idea from Dr. S the past few weeks, but it still surprises me. It's funny how much life truly is a constantly evolving ball of yarn that unravels and reravels and gets pawed at by the cat called "emotion." Or something. Maybe you all already knew this.

Like selfishness - what a beast. It's wrong, right? But this is the time in life to be selfish, "they" say. What acts are selfish and which are right? Trying to deconstruct this muddle in my mind is confusing me and making me feel like I'm twelve. Why does my heart race with excitement (pound with the thought of what might be to come at the end of the gathering) at some things (people) and feel dread, anger, and sorrow (pound with the thought of what might be to come at the end of the gathering) at other people (things)? I wish I could be mature and communicate, but, well.

Anyway, I'm to report to commencement ceremonies in about seven hours, so goodnight world. Tonight's prayer is for understanding, cheer, and satiation of mental lust (because, for once, it's not physical).