So here I stand, (sit) eighteen years old preparing to attend class that I wish not to. Do I feel different? No. Nothing better, nothing worse. What have my accomplishments been? What will they be? I have no idea. I'm scared. Really. I have no idea what to do. But something must be done, I know that. Step by step I'll figure something out. I always do. If I fall, I'll still be able to get up. It may take some time, but slow and steady wins the race. Ok, off to class. More later.
-hp
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