The world is not Berkeley.
Berkeley is not the world.
I am a child of the dreamer generation, fed since childhood the idea that I can be anything i want to be, as long as i stay in school and reach for the stars and just say no. If i believe it, I can achieve it. welcome to america, complete with respective dream of said america.
But damned if i don't find myself in a odd predicament now.
Maybe i spent too much time trying to convince myself i'm a beautiful snowflake and not enough time scared out of my mind, scrambling to secure my place as a cog in the machine.
An exaggeration, of course.
But perhaps a necessary one.
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