A poem I wrote my freshman year

I am a freshman. I am new. I am excited. I am nervous. I am unsure whether I am excited or nervous. But I'm sure of two things: my major and my why. My future is constantly dangling on a string and day by day I try to control it spot its fall and promote its rise yet the string is unpredictable. I overslept. Woke up to discover I missed it. Some of it at least it wasn’t everything. When the deadlines are flooding my calendar that's when it's everything. When my emails are rolling in with the momentum of lightning that's when it's everything. It's suffocating. I can't breathe, there's no space or time to be late. No half-assing anything. Yet everything gets completed. I don't know how. We'll never know if it was by the grace of god or my will. But I'm curious. Is it because I woke up? Since I finally realized nobody cares or is obligated to care besides me. I've had to rely on myself alone. Like entrepreneur type shit. I'm the one to do it. I'm gonna get up and shake myself awake and remind myself of what I want. And more importantly why I want it. You know it's me that decides not to sleep. People often have fleeting thoughts, little strands of feelings, ideas & quotes that sweep around in their minds and regenerate in different forms. Except mine are continuous, they don't change, only evolve. My thoughts aren't little their humongous, intrusive, and intense. It's my consciousness that keeps me awake at night. Tossing and turning and mentally running myself ragged. All I can say is this exhausting form of accountability will be the reason I do it. “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. “ Consider me woke.