dear Cambridge university.

dear Cambridge university:
its the end of the year, and I know there is pretty much no possible way for you to accept me right now, no possible way for my parents to even let me attend your university thousands of miles away from home, to let their most irresponsible young daughter, to go to another country and learn something as 'useless' where I live as neurology, or even minor in english/french literature and maybe even truly learn.

Since as long as I could possibly recall I have been infatuated with all the wonders life, the humanities, the arts, the sciences, their intermingled relations impossible to separate. but I have been quite mediocre.
and it is a pain when the interests I use to burn for, when all the passion I was going to pour into, are scarcely all the more ashes in constant vigorous wind. and this is my life and, this is where I live, and it makes it hard for me to read a book at peace, there is so much to do, and so much to prove, and so many infinities of where my life is and could be, to lose.

I dont know if your college is to offer me anything, and I sure as hell am bluntly unaware if I could offer anything to your college and so many people say to follow the conventions of being confidant, that YES I will offer you a great student, that yes I will do my best but I do not pretent to know anything:
 when I was in 9th grade I was on the edge of my seat to join the american highschool diploma (a branch in my current school in saudi arabia that teaches you in accordance to the curriculums of the united states) I thought I would be a devout passionate pupil, truly learning things infinite, I thought I can engulf all the sheet and sheets of paper and radiant tales and images and livelihood my textbooks laid before me, I thought this was one great motion of animation and commotion and a whole goddamn revaluation. My 15 year old self dying and burring for the person I can become in my naive frigid little figure, but school started and it cooled my flames, just another desk and another teacher sick to the pit of her rattling stomach wanting to get home to her screaming children, everyone chained to their seats and to the board and to their notebook and this was not learning I was not learning and my nurons hyped up on adrenaline on my first week of school were buried in their own ashes.

it alright, this is life
and this
is what school was like to me
it was hell it and it was torture and I was ashamed to graduate, I was ashamed o wear my green hat and robe and heels and smile incessantly, I was ashamed to say I went on cowardly and didn't make a stand against all the time and minds and thoughts waisted in this supposed system.

Cambridge university, I dont want to burn for you then to ashes, I dont know if I can offer you anything, and I sure as hell am not sure if you can possibly offer my burning potential that etches in the back of my skull, a potential so vast and enormous and populating it disrupts my daily flow, a potential radical that I must silently, propirly live with, anything.
so, I dont know whats the purpose of this letter, I dont know what I want from you even if you were to accept me by some sort of miracle I can never attend your university.
I suppose in my stark raging radical madness I am trying to say: I have been broken down by schools and I sure as hell dont mind if your school breaks me down too, but:
I will tell the truth and my voice will be heard and I wont lie and say I am looking forward to your school
or any
other
fucking
school.
you were once my dream.
from saudi arabia
abeer al juaithen.