Usually with these senior columns, people take the time to talk about how much they’ve grown as a person and ponder all the My Little Pony-esque lessons they’ve gained along the way. Trust me, I would know since I edit them all.
I, however, seem to not have evolved as a human whatsoever from the second I opened that first Zoom tab.
I still try to hold in my laughter whenever my biology teacher puts on videos about intercourse (THE SPERM WAS SWIMMING AND DYING. I SWEAR IT WAS FUNNY).
I have the emotional maturity of a 12-year-old. Mrs. Manter and Mrs. Chang can attest that I look like the foggy day schedule was just announced and then canceled after I had already comfortably committed to lying on my bed whenever we have to talk about our feelings.
And I spend my hours after school writing Pokemon song lyrics on Mr. Castle’s white board.
Perhaps one day I’ll achieve a level of respectable maturity, but it most likely won’t happen by the time I graduate.
I do have one sensible piece of advice to give you though: don’t worry about your major. I BARELY decided on my major this past summer when it seems like everybody has known what they want to do from the second that first sperm won the race and arrived at the egg. (I’M ABOUT TO BREAK OUT LAUGHING IN MY ENGLISH CLASS. I NEED TO STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS).
You don’t get to know what major I decided on though you nosy people.
Suppose though, that this time of the year comes around next year. You’re sitting there hoping Taco Bell will raise their salaries copiously, for you have yet to decide on a major. As you’re pondering this reality, you think back. Back to me. Perhaps you ultimately develop a deeply rooted hatred for me, because I was wrong. BUT YOU CHOSE TO BELIEVE ME after all I’ve talked about is how I’m stupid. So, that one’s on you my guy.
But also, have hope, I’m really dumb and I’m still eligible to graduate, so….
My evidence for you: just a few weeks ago, I finally realized why smoking is called smoking. I HAVE SINCE FORGOTTEN, but I’m sure it’ll come back to me. OH MY GOD. I REMEMBERED.
That’s enough of that though.
To my fellow teachers: I will soon achieve freedom. You, however, remain here. Meaning you are not free, and I will continue to email you from wherever it is that I am. Mr. Filkins, you are not safe. (THAT ISN’T ACTUALLY A THREAT. DON’T SEND ME TO THE POLICE). Mr. Castle, I will not peacefully rest until you have watched Attack on Titan. And to everyone else, I just like to send memes so expect an email every once in a while.
As for my fellow peers: don’t be surprised if you catch me lurking on your profile a good five years after we graduate. I’m a chismosa.
(POSSIBLE (?) ATTACK ON TITAN SPOILERS AHEAD)
A certain someone (I CAN’T SPECIFY OR I’LL SPOIL MR. CASTLE, but if you know, you know) may have died trying to achieve freedom, but at least I’ll be free soon enough.
P.S. I’m sure most of you guys have sneaking suspicions that most of my time and writing in Clarion have been part of an elaborate scheme to promote Attack on Titan, and you WOULD be correct. Go watch it. This is specifically targeted at a nerd with green hair.
Also college is fake which is why I didn’t talk about it. A major is just a bay Spanish horse.
