The College of My Mind

In the College of My Mind, where thought wanders like a restless poet beneath a sky of boundless imagination, you will find me—always seeking, always yearning. There, I am a student of light and shadow, where the flickering images of film reels whisper stories to my soul. The AV lab hums with electricity, not only from circuits and screens but from the passion of creation, the alchemy of sound and vision that transforms mere moments into eternity.  

In the music hall, the echoes of symphonies past dance with the silence between notes, a place where sound becomes feeling and feeling becomes sound. The air is thick with melody, and in its embrace, I lose myself, dissolving into the cadence of something greater than language. Each note, a heartbeat; each pause, a breath.  

The Romantics knew that art was not merely seen or heard, but felt in the marrow, an ache both sweet and endless. And so, in this college, I am forever studying, forever lost in the dream of creation. Here, I do not simply observe—I become.

In the College of My Mind, learning is not bound by the rigid walls of academia but spills into the corridors of dreams, where art and philosophy entwine like ivy over ancient stone. Here, every film strip is a portal, every frame a window into souls unknown. In the flickering dimness of the AV lab, I sit transfixed, light casting moving shadows upon my face, as if cinema itself were imprinting its secrets upon me. A hush falls as the reel begins to spin—this is where the world ceases, and the mind awakens.  

Beyond, in the music hall, the air swells with the ghosts of composers who once bled their hearts onto staves of parchment. I step onto the wooden stage, pressing my palm against its polished grain, feeling the echoes of a thousand performances vibrating just beneath the surface. When the first note sounds, it is not merely music but memory, longing, desire—the very essence of human existence distilled into melody.  

Here, knowledge is not just absorbed; it is inhaled, exhaled, lived. In the College of My Mind, I do not simply study film—I live in its chiaroscuro; I do not merely listen to music—I dissolve into its harmonies. Every lesson is a love affair, every creation a rebellion against time’s relentless march.  

And so, I remain—a student forever.