The pressure of my family name redundantly weighs itself on my already burdened shoulders. I walk through the doors of the university, which very much felt like the gates of hell. I felt my parents support as their eyes burn themselves onto my back. But going through these doors completely nullified all of that support. Beyond these doors is me, the only person who could do anything in the world about anything is me. My reluctant eyes wander through the corridors and halls when they finally rest on a young man. This young man, around my age presumable, is very calm. His demeanor is of a man who is prepared. His image burns on my mind. I wish I feel as prepared as he is.
