Smart-enough?

The sweet silence of the campus, devoid of complicated matters like classes, homework, and people. Far removed from the hustle and bustle of daily life in the University. A most interesting moment indeed. True isolation has never been more acute than now---almost all the usual spots of social activity are closed down in one way or another for the ensuing break, and this, unfortunately, includes the computer clusters.

The semesters has finally wound down; I have bittersweet feelings over the whole experience. On the one hand, my life has finally picked up where the pieces last fell and I'm moving forward once more, in a rather happy and contented fashion. On the other hand, there is the worry about the future and the various sets of setbacks that await me when the ramifications of this semester return to haunt me in the future.

On a semi-related note, I already know that I'm not smart, so I adjust my aim to just be ``smart-enough''. It turns out that perhaps I'm not really ``smart-enough'' given what I'm seeing this semester, and that worries me on so many levels. Yet strangely, despite all the innate worry, I seem to be of unsusual calm. That is not right---I ought to be really panicky and wondering what's the best thing that I need to do, yet I find myself in such a state. Perhaps I'm just being resigned, resigned to the fate that awaits me, resigned to my life the way that I think it was planned out for me.

Yet deep inside me, the fire to take on the challenges and to fight burns strongly within, egging me on, telling me that the odds are always impossible, but only the greatest do impossible things. Perhaps I'm one of these ``greatest'', most definitely not among the masses but at least by my book.

In that case, why this feeling of doubt? Why do I keep wondering if I can make it or not? Why can't I stop worrying about things like that: clearly there're more productive things that I can leave my mind to. But, like all things by me about me, I don't really have an answer. Perhaps I'm just some two cents hack hallucinating that I can literally take on the world; maybe I'm just very delusional and highly suggestive to mere persuasions of greatness.

What have I become? Why have I become so? These questions... I do not expect an answer to. But hopefully, I will not end up killing myself both in physical and figurative senses just to ensure that I'm ``answerable'' to the folks.