It’s such a strange sensation to look at my room right now, empty of all furniture except a mattress, the walls bare of my posters. I can’t help but to think that somehow four years of my life, as evidenced by my accumulated books and music, have suddenly disappeared, packed away, on the way across country to some other place.
It’s as if all of a sudden, things just fell apart, piece by piece, until all that is left of my fours years is out of sight. The feeling is disorienting, because I woke up yesterday and realized that I had absolutely nothing to do: done with finals, no more classes, no more reading for classes, and no more writing papers. To the feeling in Heideggerian terms: the university, for four years, was my world. It is the place and context in which I have defined myself and forged an identity. But now, I no longer have a place in that world, so it’s like my Being in the world is now changed to something completely different.
For now, I have no world to which I belong.
I imagine it’ll take some getting used to, but such is life.