take me home

39 more days till i am free of this place.

40 more days till i fall into my boyfriend's arms.

time passes so beyond-the-speed-of-light fast and yet so excruciatingly slow at the same time.

somehow, i feel like i haven't accomplished anything this semester. where did all the time go? why did it take my dreams with it?

every time i walk past and look at Low Library, i am unwillingly reminded of how i felt when i first stepped onto the Columbia campus and saw it for the very first time--i cried. not torrents of tears cried, because that would just be strange, but i teared seeing it and realizing that everything i had slaved over had come to fruition. i remember turning to my mom and saying, "wow. i never realized it was so........big." she nodded mutely at me; my dad looked at me like he was properly proud of me for going against his wishes and pursuing my own selfish dreams for the very first time.

i remember sitting at convocation feeling the excitement swell up in my chest as the Class of 2013 cheered and screamed and clapped along with me. feeling so hopeful and fresh and new, like anything and everything was about to happen on this campus and i was going to be reborn right in the middle of it.

time has passed. midterms have come and gone. friends gained have already become friends lost. an awesome floor has become a less-than-awesome, more-than-awkward one. clubs i was dying to join have become clubs i might join next semester or year because they were too intimidating. classes with people i didn't know have become classes with people i just can't fit in with. all the small talk and class discussion and trips to the Met can't seem to change that.

somehow, at the halfway point of the semester, the sense that overwhelms me is the one that screams I just can't be American.

i wonder, will this change in the next three-and-a-half years? as much as i have my own problems dealing with my Malaysianness, would i want this to change? is giving up my love for the laidback, for classes i can ace with relative ease in reasonably good universities, for supportive friends and comfort and clubbing with people i actually love, such a big deal in comparison to the drive to succeed, the ambition to prevail, the burning desire to obliterate the class curve, the networks and opportunities and capitalist tendencies and right to claim "I graduated from an Ivy League university" i stand to gain?



take me home*.


here's to the rest of semester.


*home = where my friends are, where my boyfriend is, where i felt like people cared about more than their next CGPA, where studying was a momentary distraction in an odyssey of fun, where i was truly happy, where i was never alone.