Cleaning out my dorm room.
[[MORE]]Moved most of the stuff out of my room today. Just a little bit of things left… the fridge, a box of books, my fan.
Everyone kept holding up things and asking if I needed it, or if it was trash.
And I’d look at these sketches, and half-finished projects, and all these scraps, and even though there’s no point, I couldn’t throw them away.
I just can’t shake this feeling like everything I did was a waste. The entire year. What the hell did I work so hard for?
I have to go back tomorrow.
I’ll say goodbye to my friends from the dorms too.
God, this is… this is more painful than actually being sick.