Words from a Second-hand Heart

Working full time was never an appealing option for me. I went to university for five years to study an Arts Degree. Because I dropped my subjects on a whim and was less focused every year, I never actually finished. Right now I am a semester away from obtaining my degree with no real desire to ever go back. I used to spend time at the tavern with students who assumed the world was theirs having pointless conversations we would forget by the next day. The rest of my time was spent falling in and out of love with every intelligent girl I came across (the ones with bob cuts, red lipstick, black boots, who read Gertrude Stein and Jeanette Winterson, who lived alone, who drank in the day, who bought records instead of C.Ds, who had black bed sheets with white cum stains and rooms that smelled of incense and adventure). I didn’t believe in the power of a degree. Going to university was like practicing for a life that doesn’t exist. So I quit and decided to become a writer instead.