i'm staring at the next 25 days in front of me. i'm staring down the barrel of a gun. i'm staring at the fate of it all, right in the palm of my hands. i have to admit, it is more than a little unnerving to have so much power and control over your own destiny, especially when it seems like you're in control, but you're actually not. that being said, living under the illusion is definitely better than being disillusioned. the beginning is a little more than 42 hours away, but it feels so distant, just far enough for me to sit here and write about it. once we get started, i just hope it ends in an instant. i hope we don't feel a thing, between the beginning and the end, because feeling would make the process so much more painful (that's pretty much the only emotion we'd feel anyway).

i want to be calm, cool and collected, but i'm not. i'm not ready. i don't think i will ever be. i feel like i'm always going to be that little boy lost in the crowd, shaking, not knowing what to do. all of this anxiety and prep talk isn't really going to count for much when i get thrown into the fray anyway, but this is the only way i'm going in with a clear mind, because the last thing i need right now is a cerebral chew toy. i am positively petrified. i just want it to all be over. i think i'll pretty much take whatever comes right now. close my eyes and await a miracle, or the next best thing, which is me standing next to you, laughing about the grades i got, which have no implication whatsoever on the rest of our lives together. i think i'll take my chances with the miracle.

it's all about the numbers, but is it really? a catchier catchphrase escapes me.