Who Is Anthony Stephens?

The Life and Death of a College Grad

129. Excerpt from Anthony Stephens’ Mood Journal

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March 28, 2008,

Was in the book store today and saw this little kid whose dad was trying to veer him towards the book section, but all the boy wanted was to look at the comics. I laughed when I saw the father pleading and he looked at me and laughed too, rolling his eyes. As if to say, “what can you do?”

But I wasn’t laughing at the kid’s resistance so much as I was laughing at his dad’s condescension.

I wanted to walk up to him and tell him he could keep that shit up if he wanted, but it would never work out in his favor.

You can’t control people, no matter what you do. It’s in humanity’s nature to rebel.

That dad wants his kid to read more because his son wants the comics, and that kid wants the comics more because his dad wants him to read books. It’s unavoidable, that conflict. Which is kind of ironic when you think about it because, if we’re all rebels, then doesn’t that mean that rebels, by their very definition, don’t actually exist?

It’s these things that fuel me nowadays; for the first time in my life the things that go on in my head actually comfort me, give me strength to face the world as it is and not as this ideal image that I used to make it into.

I think things may be leveling out for me finally, or starting to at least. Me, my life, this med school thing. I’m getting the hang of it all. Starting my Brain and Behavior courses this summer, teaching some undergrad electives too on this assistantship they gave me. Hopefully with that I can keep these student loans from getting even more retardedly high than they already are, so maybe I can actually live my life for me for once as opposed to living it for somebody else.

As far as Louise, yeah she’s still around. I don’t know what’s going on with her. She says she’s distant sometimes because of school, that she doesn’t want any set-in-stone commitments until we’re both finished with our residencies and all that. She says there’s nobody else, even though she still disappears for days on end and acts like nothing’s weird when she just pops back up again.

I can’t tell if I believe her or not. I don’t know if I care enough to try. Part of me just wants to end it, to prove to myself that it doesn’t matter.

But, on the same note, going back to being alone doesn’t even really seem like an option.

I don’t know, maybe I should. I don’t need this. What I need to do is remember where I came from, where I’m going, and have faith in myself that it’ll all be alright if I just don’t let up.

Things always end up alright in the long run, if you wait long enough.


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