Thought????

Despite my unshakable former-gifted-kid desire to feel wanted and special, I was somewhat disappointed to accept my invitation to the honors program. This was mostly because the regular first year seminar options sounded fun and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to take one. I mean, who doesn’t want to play DnD in class for an entire semester? Still, I figured the honors seminar options had to be equally exciting. After all, the program had been pitched to me like a glowing prophecy declaring that I was the chosen one (did well in high school) who could endure divine trials (slightly harder classes with “thought” in their name) and procure glorious treasures (write research papers). My ego could not ignore such high praise, so I signed up for the program and eagerly awaited the special seminar options I was promised.

When the long awaited list finally arrived, I still hung onto some hope. The seminars might have been about slightly less interesting topics (things like memory, empathy, and consciousness rather than magic and dragons), but I saw the potential for interesting conversations and entertaining course materials (I definitely did not choose my seminar class just cause I wanted to read one of the required novels). I may not have been living out my dream of being a fantasy elf and stabbing things with swords, but I was looking forward to my class discussions and had genuine interest in the subject of my course. Little did I know the fate that awaited me… 

I once saw a post from a reputable scientific source (Reddit) stating that smarter people are more unhappy because they are more aware of what is wrong with the world. Apparently, the honors program took this to heart because half the seminar options seem hellbent on giving students existential crises. “Oh, you’re of slightly above average intelligence? Here, open your eyes to the horrors of the universe!” While my peers outside the honors program are enjoying their classes, I am currently wondering whether I actually exist or if everything I regard as unique about myself is the product of random signals in my brain and “I” (as in my soul or consciousness or whatever) am not actually real. Then my friend’s seminar material has me questioning whether or not my own memories (aka the basis of my entire personality) are reliable and whether I have always been myself. I might not even have free will. Some outside force might be forcing me to write this article. Who knows? As a creative writing major, I’m supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not a victim of fiction. Stop trying to make me feel bad for my characters. If I don’t have free will, though, I would like to personally say “fuck you” to whoever is controlling my will. You should have put me in DnD.

I enjoy my honors seminar, don’t get me wrong. It is interesting, even if I leave class with a crushing sense of existential dread. But it would be nice if everyone could partake equally in this suffering. Why do only the honors students have to question their entire existence in their fragile first few months of college life? We’re already crammed into tiny cell-like rooms and separated from the rest of campus. Cut us a break and give a little of the mental torment to the other first years too. Share the love.

On the bright side, even though I am no longer sure I have a soul and do not get to play DnD, at least I get a shit ton of credits for it.