There’s only one month left of its first year. University teaches me more than the mandatory knowledge needed to pass my exams. Within its walls, I found the missing pieces of me.

I used to think I would never write about politics, yet recently found myself yearning for a keyboard when thinking about ecology, education and equality. Some realities of history are seen differently from the picture I had in that suburban high school I went to. Photography and landscapes are the images that speaks the most to me in art history. My brain is as capable of logical thinking as it is of intuitive creativity, said philosophy. What I like and dislike find echoes thrown back at me and I listen. I listen.

There is just something about this place that builds upon the rubbles of that tower I once destroyed. I took them out of my backpack and now find myself in a simple hut in the middle of the woods. Life springs from every steps I take. It might be the magic of the mountain the campus is built on.

There is so much to learn about this world and I’m only swimming at the surface. I’ve been accepted in the program that will get me deeper in and, now, my future is made of « I will » rather than « maybe’s ». I can see the path of a career ahead, the house I dream of, the love I’ll keep finding on my way. The road ahead is full of light and most of it comes from me, from the decisions I trusted to take and those waiting beyond.

I found my truth and it’s shining back at me.

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