While I was busy slacking off.
Classes happened. Some of them were even interesting.
Theatre, debate, quiz society members worked at their respective crafts. People made music, created wall art, constructed beautiful things out of paper, buttons, colours and glue, even went out on rallies, cleaned up the Maidan, then the JU Arts Department parking lot. They were productive, because they care. They care about life, about participating, about promoting culture, being part of something greater than just chilling, just reading and writing sporadically, just being a lazy-ass in general. I'm ok at academics, I do a theatre club once a week, I turn up for other people's cultural events. And yeah, I wrote a book at some point. So fucking what? I've been done for ages, that's an insult of an excuse right now.
Because that's what JU does to you. If you want to, it can be the most instructive, interesting, the most fun place you've ever been. And if you want to end up being a fucked-up loser with no interest in anything till the next fix of whatever does it for you comes along, well, JU will hand it to you on a silver plate with salad on the side. That's the dangerous part - if you mess up, it's because of free will, man.
But it's all cool, man. It's been a while since you last smoked/drank/fell in love/snorted whatever. That's why you're talking shit, that's why you've lost your nerve. Wait it out. You'll be oblivious in a while.