My Confession, Part Four

For those of you that don't know, getting into Stanford is really hard. You basically have to be able to fly or bend spoons with your mind or something like that. I'm getting better at it now, but back then I could barely conjugate farsi, let alone order dinner via esp. Instead of Stanford I went to Berkeley after I was done with city college, which was still quite an extraordinary achievement for Me the Slacker. I went to philosophy classes and studied until night time came around. Then I got high and played drums in the basement of my dorm until I got tired and went to sleep. That was basically my life. Every once in a while I would hang out with some of the people in my dorm who were gracious enough to befriend me, but I was too busy with getting things done to really let them in to my life. What with all the hubub about Me going to Smarty Pants University, I had forgotten that school is no more than a bad joke that one can benefit from knowing, but you can't take it seriously or you'll end up the fool. I had started out as a fool and it was therefore easy to see the joke for what it was, but I had let myself get tempted into trying to find something deeper in the absurdity, not realizing that in doing so I was having to run fasterfasterfaster just to keep from falling down - falling off.