Verse 2

I made it out of the house in under ten minutes, which should’ve been impossible. But when you don’t care much about first impressions, getting dressed becomes a speedrun.
T-shirt. Jeans. Hoodie. Let’s go.

The campus was already alive — buzzing with all kinds of people who looked like they had their lives together.

People laughing in groups, hugging like they hadn’t seen each other in years.
I was just… walking. Existing.

I kept my headphones on, even though there was no music playing. Classic defense mechanism.
No one talks to the guy with headphones.

Note to self: Maybe try harder to not look like a background character.

I got lost twice trying to find the admin building.
A girl offered to help me, and she smiled — like, actually smiled.
Not the forced, awkward kind, but the kind that makes your stomach glitch.

Her name was Zoe or Chloe or… something with an “oe.”
I forgot the moment she walked away.

Story of my life.

I wonder how many connections we miss just because we’re too in our heads.

But yeah, I made it. Got my class schedule, a map of the school (which I won’t use), and a welcome gift bag full of things I’ll throw away in a week.
A water bottle with the university logo.
A pen.
A condom.

Real classy.

The old lady at the desk really thought I would use it. Bless her heart.
She kept insinuating I should be “protected” when “engaging.”

So far, college feels like high school — with more walking.

Anyway, I’m writing this now from the tiny dorm room I share with some guy named Malik.
He hasn’t arrived yet.

I’m tensing up knowing that half the room belongs to a stranger.

Anyway, I’m writing this now from the tiny dorm room I share with some guy named Malik. He hasn’t arrived yet. There’s an awkward tension in knowing that half the room belongs to a stranger.

It’s 3:04 PM.
I haven’t spoken to anyone since I got here.

Well… only one person, unless we’re counting the old lady.

Actually, yeah. She was really nice.