The summer quickly slipped away, and before I knew it, it was time to start university. The transition was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. The campus was a whirlwind of new faces and opportunities, and I felt like I was swimming in a sea of unfamiliarity.
On my first day, I wandered through the campus with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sprawling grounds and modern buildings were a far cry from the high school halls I was used to. Students were everywhere, chatting, laughing, and finding their way around. I felt a bit like an outsider, observing from the sidelines.
In the weeks that followed, I settled into my new routine. I had chosen to pursue a Computer Science degree, a field that fascinated me and promised a future full of possibilities. The classes were tough but engaging, and I enjoyed diving into programming, algorithms, and data structures. It was a whole new world of logic and problem-solving, and I was eager to explore it.
Adjusting to university life was a mix of excitement and growing pains. My days were packed with lectures, coding assignments, and study sessions. The workload was demanding, but I found satisfaction in the progress I was making. The campus was lively and dynamic, and I slowly started to find my place.
Amidst the busy schedule, I appreciated the structure and focus that my studies provided. It was a welcome change from the emotional chaos of the past, and I embraced the chance to build a future based on something I was passionate about.
As the semester went on, I continued to navigate the complexities of my new environment. The freedom and independence of university life offered a fresh start, and I approached it with cautious optimism. The past was always there in the background, but it no longer dominated my thoughts. I was determined to build a future true to who I was becoming, and with each day, I felt a bit more grounded and hopeful.
In the midst of it all, Irene and Stella remained an important part of my life. Although we had chosen different paths—Irene in Medical School and Stella in Engineering—our friendship stayed strong. They clung to me with their usual warmth and support, and we made sure to catch up whenever we could.
One afternoon, we were hanging out in the university café, and Irene was excitedly talking about her anatomy lab. “You guys, we’ve been dissecting hearts,” she said with a big smile. “It’s incredible to see all the details up close, but it’s also really tough. I’m learning so much, and it’s definitely worth the effort.”
I smiled and said, “That sounds amazing, Irene. I can tell you’re really passionate about it. I can’t even imagine how detailed it must be.”
Stella, who had been quietly enjoying her coffee, chimed in, “I’m working on this engineering project about sustainable energy solutions. It’s a group project, so we’ve been brainstorming and testing different ideas. It’s a lot of work, but seeing our ideas come together is super rewarding.”
I nodded, “That’s really cool, Stella. I get what you mean. I’ve been buried in coding and algorithms lately. It can be frustrating, but it feels so good when everything finally clicks.”
Irene and Stella both nodded, understanding where I was coming from. “It’s great to hear about what everyone’s doing,” Irene said. “Even though we’re studying different things, it’s nice to share our experiences.”
Stella agreed, “Yeah, it’s comforting. We’re all dealing with our own challenges and successes, but having friends who understand makes a big difference.”
I felt a warm sense of relief and happiness. “Absolutely. It’s moments like these that remind me how important it is to stay close with friends who get what you’re going through. Even though our paths are different, it’s wonderful to support each other.”
We kept chatting and laughing, enjoying each other’s company and appreciating the support we provided one another despite our busy schedules. Despite the occasional challenge of coordinating meet-ups, our friendship remained a cherished constant. We supported each other through exams, celebrated successes, and offered a listening ear during tough times. Their presence in my life was a comforting reminder of the strong bonds we’d forged in high school, helping me navigate this new chapter with a sense of familiarity and connection. Even though our paths had diverged, the camaraderie we shared continued to be a source of strength and comfort, grounding me as I pursued my dreams in Computer Science.
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Timestamp: 04:01
Harry,
 
Life sure isn’t easy. It feels like every step I take comes with its own set of hurdles. I remember how hard it was to take my first steps as a baby, and now, at 18 or 20 or however old I am, it seems like the challenges just keep piling up. I’m always buried in my studies, pushing through endless assignments and long nights.
 
Every morning feels like a new battle. I get up and face the day, tackling my schoolwork even though it often feels like I’m doing it all alone. My studies are my whole world right now, and while they give me some structure, there’s this quiet ache inside me. I crave connection and understanding, but I keep those feelings to myself, buried under all the pressure.
 
Sometimes, I wonder why everything has to be so tough. I feel overwhelmed and isolated a lot. But then, I have these moments where things start to make sense, and I think, “Hey, this isn’t so bad.” It’s these little victories that remind me I can handle it, even when it feels like I’m constantly fighting an uphill battle.
 
I haven’t seen my family in a while, and I’m starting to think it’s because things aren’t as happy as they used to be. My mom is always proud when I achieve something, but sometimes it feels like there’s so much pressure to keep up her expectations. It’s like I’m constantly being pushed to excel.
 
My brother’s life seems so different. He’s got a stable job and is planning to get married in a couple of years. I hear about his plans and feel this mix of envy and longing. He seems to have everything figured out, while I’m here, feeling isolated and weighed down by my studies.
 
Even with all this, I’m trying to keep going. I need to remember to give myself credit for pushing through and dealing with everything, even when it feels like I’m on my own. Every challenge, every tough day, is part of shaping who I’m becoming. I have to believe that this journey, with all its ups and downs, is leading me somewhere important.
 
So here’s to pushing through the tough times, to holding on to hope, and to silently wishing for the connection I’m missing. Every day is a step forward, and I’ve got to trust that it’s all part of becoming who I’m meant to be.
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One lazy afternoon at the campus café, Jamie, Riley, and I found ourselves in our usual corner, coffee cups in hand, discussing the latest Software Engineering project assignment. Jamie, always the most animated of the three of us, leaned forward with a spark in his eyes.
“So,” he began, “how’s everyone holding up with the project? It’s not just me thinking it’s insanely complicated, right?”
Riley, flipping through her worn-out notebook filled with sketches and notes, sighed. “You’re not wrong. We’re tasked with building a complete software application from scratch, and the requirements doc is no joke. I’ve been focusing on the UI design using Figma, but integrating it with the frontend logic has been a headache. The API calls aren’t syncing the way they should, and I think there might be an issue with how the data is being fetched.”
I nodded, feeling her frustration. “Tell me about it. I’ve been knee-deep in the backend, setting up the RESTful APIs and managing the database schemas with PostgreSQL. Every time I resolve one bug, a new one shows up. Right now, the authentication module is giving me trouble—somehow, the JWT tokens aren’t validating correctly after login. I suspect it’s an issue with the middleware, but I haven’t pinned it down yet.”
Jamie scratched his head thoughtfully. “That sounds rough. I’ve been handling the system architecture—making sure the MVC pattern is consistent and that the microservices are talking to each other properly. But honestly, coordinating all these components has been tricky. I think we need to realign on our API contracts and maybe double-check the data flow diagrams to see where things are breaking.”
Riley closed her notebook with a sigh. “Yeah, I think part of the problem is that we’re all working on different parts without fully syncing up. Maybe if we review the API documentation together, we can spot where the disconnects are happening.”
I agreed, “That makes sense. Let’s meet up at the library this afternoon. We can bring all our notes, diagrams, and maybe even run a few debugging sessions together. If we go through the error logs and console outputs as a team, we might be able to trace the issues faster.”
Jamie’s face lit up. “Perfect. I’ve got some architecture diagrams I’ve been working on—things like component interaction models and deployment diagrams. It’ll be good to see if they match how the frontend and backend are actually behaving.”
Riley added, “I’ll bring my UI mock-ups and a list of issues I’ve been facing with state management in React. Maybe we can also discuss how to improve the user experience and streamline some of the navigation flows.”
As we wrapped up our conversation and agreed to meet later, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Tackling the project alone felt overwhelming, but knowing we had a plan to collaborate made it all seem manageable. Despite the complexity of the assignment, working as a team gave me hope that we could navigate the challenges and deliver a solid application.
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Later that evening, back at the house where I’ve been living since starting university, I found myself alone in my room. The quiet was almost too loud. I share the place with three housemates, but between classes, part-time jobs, and project deadlines, our paths rarely cross. The other two, both in their final year, are practically glued to their desks, drowning in thesis work. The stress on their faces is impossible to miss, and every time I catch a glimpse of them hunched over their laptops, it stirs something uneasy in me—a reminder that my own turn is coming.
Since the first day I stepped into this program, the future has felt like this looming shadow, always just out of reach but impossible to ignore. I used to be that kid—the one with a head full of dreams, brimming with excitement about coding, building apps, maybe even joining a startup that would change the world. But now? Now it feels like I’m just trying to stay afloat in an endless sea of deadlines, debugging errors, and late-night coding sessions. The glow of the screen is my constant companion, and my eyes sting from staring at lines of code for hours, trying to untangle logic errors that refuse to make sense.
The uncertainty about the future is suffocating. What kind of job do I even want? Should I be aiming for a big tech company like Google or Microsoft, or should I explore something smaller, maybe a local startup where I can wear multiple hats and really dig into different roles? The thought of researching companies, tailoring resumes, and preparing for technical interviews filled with whiteboard problems makes my chest tighten. Everyone around me seems to have a plan, a direction, but I’m stuck in this loop, questioning if I even belong in this field.
The days blur together—just a never-ending cycle of assignments, group meetings, and all-nighters fuelled by bad coffee and worse instant noodles. I try to stay focused, to keep my head down and get the work done, but some days it feels impossible. Every time I think about the future, it’s like staring into a fog, thick and impenetrable. The dreams I once clung to feel distant, almost like they belonged to someone else.
The only thing keeping me going right now is the thought of the semester break—just two more months. It feels like a distant oasis in this desert of burnout. I keep telling myself that once I get there, maybe I’ll finally have the space to breathe, to clear my head, and figure out what I actually want. Maybe I’ll even find the spark that got me into this in the first place.
I sat there in my room, surrounded by textbooks, scribbled notes, and more empty coffee cups than I care to count. The silence felt heavy, pressing down on me. I wasn’t just tired—I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I wasn’t sure if it was the pressure of the projects, the looming career decisions, or just the overwhelming pace of it all, but it felt like I was slowly losing myself in the process.
All I wanted was a moment of peace—just one. A break from the relentless deadlines, the endless error messages, and the constant pressure to succeed. I kept staring at the calendar on my desk, counting down the days, hoping that when the semester breaks finally arrived, it wouldn’t just give me rest—it would give me clarity. A chance to reconnect with the passion I once had for this field, and maybe even the courage to believe in those old dreams again.
But for now, all I could do was close my laptop, let out a long breath, and hope that tomorrow would feel a little lighter.