Past Ten O'Clock
Hi.
The kick drum of a techno song playing in another room sounds like a distant heartbeat from where I am.
I just got back from Calmart. My room is empty; I’m sleeping on the floor tonight. 
I’m no longer a student—simply a resident of Los Angeles who just happens to be living near USC. The separation between myself and (former) school has become quite noticeable—even at Calmart. I wasn’t Jared, the Business of Cinematic Arts Major. Instead, I felt like Jared, the simulated South Central character who was merely dropped into Calmart to exist in the backdrop of others’ college experiences. My past and future were a blur—my only grasp of reality being the fluorescent lights, convenience store snacks, and commercial refrigerators that lined the walls around me.
It was in this quiet, dissociated state of observation when I noticed the group of frat guys walk through the door. I was in line, behind an older Hispanic man with spikey pink hair. He was paying for his scratchers and tallboy, making small talk with the cashier whose name is John. The frat kids—TKE I assumed, by the way their hats sat on their heads and the overall appearance akin to a high school athlete—ended up behind me, each carrying an 18 pack of beer under their arm. I listened in on their conversation. They were speaking but saying nothing. My attention went back to the guy in front of me, where I oddly felt more comfortable. Quietly, I paid for my chocolate chip Cliff bar and 6 pack of IPAs before aimlessly strolling back to the house where the empty room with three naked shelves was waiting for me.
—Let me stop real quick. This is, in fact, a blog for USC Marshall International Exchange Program. I should have made that clearer. If you are looking for something more:
“I fell in love with Vienna from a distance. A Billy Joel song that inspired a longing that manifested in a decision to spend my junior year spring in one of the most profound, historical, and prettiest places on earth. A city at the intersection of history, arts, and culture. Follow me on my journey….”
By all means, there’s probably a blog like that three clicks away. I’d imagine there’s a sidebar that should take you back to a page with all of the blogs from IEP students and you can scroll down and choose the one you like. I imagine Barcelona inspires that kind of writing. Maybe Milan. I did make an attempt at writing something like that. An intro blog with an Emily in Paris level of innocence and ignorance. It didn’t work out.
“The best part of anything is the moment before it begins.” I used to believe that. I used to think The Social Network was my favorite movie too. Things change though. You learn more. You experience more.
The moment before it begins is where I’ve been living recently. I leave for Vienna in a few days. According to that quote, this is should be the best part. In some ways, it has been. It’s like being told: “You are going to die in 10 days. What do you want to do?” And it seems I’ve been living out my pursuit of answering that question. I’m spending time with the people who make me happy. I’m exploring LA. I’m trying new foods. I’m out of my head. I’m savoring every moment. I’m feeling alive.
In other ways, it’s been quite difficult. Classes already started at USC as well as at the other abroad programs. So it’s lonely—being connected to two worlds but not belonging to either.
“In hours like these, one rises to address the ages, history, and all creation.” This sounds more like it—how I’ve actually been feeling. It’s this wave after wave sensation of intense clarity and exhausting introspection that only comes from being the last to leave.
I guess it has always been there. The existential itch. That funny feeling. Whatever you want to call it. It’s always been there. I chose USC because of it. USC felt new. I felt like I could be the person I was waiting to become. Confident, respected, independent. I joined a fraternity because of it. Being at USC wasn’t enough to become the person I wanted to be. Being in a frat would though. I would have clout. I would be liked. I would be finally able to like myself. I became a social chair because of it. Now, people would listen. Girls would see me differently. I had a voice. People would value me. I would value myself. I joined LavaLab because of it. I will be social and smart. I will be an entrepreneur. People will see the intellectual Instagram stories I post. They will see me. They will accept me. I will accept me. I lived in the fraternity house because of it. I will finally be able to let loose and have fun. I will be able to relax. I will be able to be myself. I chose to go abroad because of it. I can finally break out of the bubble on 28th street. People abroad won’t look at me that way. I will be out of that house. I will be free. I will finally be free. And I guess I chose to blog because of it. I will finally be heard. People will finally understand me. People will finally accept me. I will accept me.
And so I sit here, numb from this realization—that is, I’ve spent so much of my life searching and hoping for the right external conditions to be myself without recognizing that the conditions have always been there, waiting within. I guess there’s no point in waiting any longer, right?
…
So now, I’m gonna stop writing and start on this 6 pack. It seems fitting to end with a toast:
“Here’s to Vienna and the enrichment of self in all of its forms.”
Cheers.