Assorted Leche Flan

    I'm sorry I don't talk to you much. You never respond and it gets pretty boring after feeling like I've only talked to myself, and at least I answer my own questions. But sometimes I tire of my own heavy pessimism and would like a sunshiny insight from Someone whom I'd like to believe is the Force of All Things Wonderful.
    I am here figuratively down on my knees, like how Your people usually remember you for, to ask--beg, rather--for a satisfactory semester. Failure would be deadly, and as You know Everything, I'm sure You can understand how grave this is -- does it end at that?
    Regret won't solve anything, but what else can I do? Why don't You tell me? I'm in a ditch. Every moment of climbing out feels like a waste of energy. I want to hop around the gardens like I used to, where interaction makes my existence worthwhile. Here I try to get out, end up with falling back down again, and feel miserable for both my incapability and the lack of resources to do anything about it. Do I have to constantly chase after the lush fields as a dark, looming blanket of stagnancy is rending everything behind us?
    If ever You may see failure as a bigger opportunity to learn, which is ironic as learning in school should result in good grades, then let Your Will be done. I wouldn't blame You even if I wanted to, for who else caused every day put off for another but your own daughter Vanessa?
    Thanks for watching from afar.
    If I shall at once move on to work, then I hope to make good use of the supposed remaining two years of uni and start churning good local animation out sooner. If they do get finished.
    But miracles do happen. I'd be more than happy to do the same and get a degree, then view sunflowers at peace, sniff them, or plant my own.

    I still feel like I'm talking to myself. You listen; that's what they all say.
    Amen.