You will end up dying of comfort

This semester has really been one of a kind. It's probably the one that will define my college career. I took a bunch of classes, learned a bunch of stuff, and did a bunch of things. After this I guess it's a downhill ride. I really learned everything there is to learn in the world. And as far as doing things, well, I did a lot from getting involved with the newspaper to "vandalizing" a professor's car with post-it notes to writing and distributing a manifesto to almost getting put on academic probation--AGAIN. I had fun, to say the least. But what scares me is that I feel like it's all coming to an end. I suddenly feel like I need to stop being a rebellious student (even though I just learned this attitude) and that I need to shape up. I need to prepare myself mentally to step into the workforce and get a job answering phones at Merrill Lynch or something. And my professor who taught us all of this--that it's okay to have opinions and attitudes that are contrary to the norm--is leaving... and I don't understand if I'm supposed to continue being this person. It's like when Dr. Frankenstein created his monster, and then abandoned him. So now I'm like... a confused monster. God, I'm such an English major.

I feel very out of context suddenly. Like somebody plucked me out of the ground and replanted me somewhere else. Or like someone moved Mona Lisa to MOCA. She's still smiling, but her eyes are shifting from left to right, looking at the saturated primary colors splattered on canvases everywhere and she's thinking, "This can't be right..."