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It’s frightening to think about how fast your mind adapts to fit the circumstances.
Two days ago, I was lying on the warm Philippine bed, with nothing on my mind but my grandparents, my nephews, seeing my best friend Martin, and all the books I’ve been reading. I was fully in vacation-mode, with nothing but family and relaxing on my mind.

I’ve been in Stony for less than 12 hours, and the Philippines already feels like a distant memory. I’ve spend almost all of my waking moments planning RA stuff, moving in, wondering about my classes, how Stony Brook has changed, etc. In an instant, my whole mindset, thoughts, and attitude that I had in the Philippines changed completely the moment I moved back into college.

I don’t know how to feel about this

It’s hard to write when you don’t know what you want to say. But maybe getting over that hurdle is what makes one’s writing meaningful in the first place.

I wonder if I’ll achieve that any time soon

The distress I get when I have to kill a bug, especially a larger one, is enormous.

I always thought it was unreasonable, since after all, squashing bugs without remorse seems like just a regular part of every day life.

But lets say a baby chipmunk, or squirrel, or bird found its way into our houses. Would peoples’ first reaction be to instantly pulverize it, and then wipe away the mess? I mean, yeah, most bugs have features that are  more threatening than that of a chipmunk. But aren’t we educated and advanced enough as a species to recognize/learn which bugs are actually threatening, and which ones are harmless?

And if we have that knowledge, and choose to apathetically and mercilessly kill anyway, as if insects were somehow lesser creatures than other animals, then I’m kind of worried.


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