And thus the beginning of my life Saga has also.
It's one in the morning, hopefully sufficiently late enough so that this post seems completely unimportant enough for my standards.
Today, I clicked on my notes in Facey.
There were only two there. One was a poem my mom wrote (no one knows why I put that there), the other one of those twenty-five things about yourself crap writings.
So, of course, I read what I had written as a Sophomore.
I deemed the situation appropriate, since graduation ensued a moment ago.
The point of my musings is that I realized who I was back then:
Kind of obnoxious. (I always seem to be shouting, even in written text). A little naive. (I sound like a crazy child.)
But most importantly I knew exactly what I wanted. Life, school, preferences, people.
Unfortunately, some of those aspirations have since turned into what-if's, and whatever's.
My biggest dream was about college. Go figure.
Here I am, BYU. I'm right here.
Where did that enthusiasm go?
For anything... ?
It's weird how, the older I get, the more tired I become. I'm sure there is laughter at the irony of Ari Kokol using words like "older" and "tired." To some, I seem a bottomless pit of neverending, frequently loud-mouthed snide remarks, and high energy.
(when I say "some," I mostly just mean my mom.)
I hope it's just a phase. The parasitic effects of ole Senioritis must be trying to hold on, for one more week.
In a way, I kind of want to get back to that old self. Full of enthusiasm. Scourged with ambition.
Random thought (thinking about enthusiasm and ambition): I love Matthew Maddix. What was said about him at graduation by Spencer, hit it right on the money.
He makes everyone feel important. He genuinely takes an interest into every soul he sees. The best part is- he actively seeks out those souls. American Fork was a better place because it knew him Its walls were basked in his ever life-fulfilling smile, to that we're all grateful.