After my dad died, I enrolled into my university. It was only a couple of months after.
I didn't give a fuck about anything then.
I was so existential, truly knowing that life is indeed short.
Every lecture I went for, I thought to myself, "Who the fuck cares about this shit?" with regard to the material they were teaching.
I proceeded to flunk my first semester.
I got a letter from administration that I had to pick myself up or I would be kicked out.
I picked myself up. I graduated eventually.
The world doesn't stop turning for you. It never will.
Life forces you to move on.
It can be a good thing honestly.