I'm getting kicked out of my program. I suppose the correct way to state it would be "I'm not getting accepted into second year", but it's hard to look at it that way right now.

A year ago I had a passion for writing and I had naive dream that I could be a journalist. Someone told me that writing was just a hobby and I needed to put myself on a path that would lead to a "real career", but I told him to fuck himself because I knew what I wanted.

But I don't anymore.

To tell the truth, I didn't move halfway across the country just for a journalism faculty. I was running away from my past and all of the shit that I couldn't handle here anymore. But I saw it as a chance to start a life that didn't revolve around what had happened to me or what I had done. And I can't say I didn't get exactly that, because I did. But it feels pointless, in a way, now.

I don't blame the school. I may get angry and trash talk how political it all is and how unfair the decision process is, but it isn't their fault. It's my own. I lost sight of what I actually wanted. I turned into a stupid bitch, and I stopped being the person that would fight for anything that mattered to me.

I hate what the last eight months have done to me. I hate the way I look at everything, I hate the way I was foolish enough to change everything I was and think that's okay.

I don't know what to say anymore. I'm not angry, I'm heartbroken. I wanted it but I didn't try hard enough. The fault's all mine, but it stings.