Went to grade papers for a couple hours this morning. Realized that the mold in my water bottle straw-entry area is actually quite disgusting and maybe that’s why I am starting to feel sick. I have that scratchy feeling in the back of my throat that I get when some niggling, inconvenient head cold is looming in front of me and I almost (almost) hate the anticipation of the discomfort that is to come more than the actual discomfort.
Or maybe I am getting sick from being stressed. I wonder if this is the most stressful semester of college I will experience. There are 97 days left (I still have to do today’s Instagram post though). I am sitting in the grove and typing and being an old lady while I watch the young’uns play with water balloons. People from LAR, Allen, and Busey are here and I know only half of the people present. There is something strange about the overturning of generations that occurs in college (and high school too, I guess, technically); it’s like… not so much sad as it is bittersweet and not so much disconcerting as it is just lonely. I miss what once was, but I am grateful for where I am. I crave the company of those who are older than me and who have already left, but I am excited to see where life is taking them and where/who we will be in x number of years and what new cafes we can check out together. I wonder if ants on a log know that they are ants on a log? And if, in fact, those ants do not know that about themselves.... what objective truths are humans unable to know about themselves? And is this blindness an incapability (our fault) or is it actually an inability (Universe's decision)?
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I don't know if distance truly does make the heart grow fonder, but I do know that high school is a terrible, agonizingly compulsory fact of American adolescence. Truly, if I was told I had to start over with my four years of high school next week (can someone give me a situation in which that would be necessary???) I would just flee the country instead. Although I wholeheartedly believe high school would be magnitudes better the second time around (just because I am a much more reasonable person), it would also be magnitudes worse because it fucking starts at 7:45 a.m. So if these two effects cancel each other out... what I'm left with is the realization that high school gave me the chance to be part of ripe sky and it gave ripe sky a chance to be a part of me and that's all that matters.
We used to jokingly refer to a certain apartment complex in town as the "ghetto" and we really only got away with it because we were all on the other side of the joke. Even those who were inside the joke couldn't be bothered to be, well, bothered and I never really questioned why until recently.
My childhood was blessed in that I was always sheltered by privilege and always without financial stress. I understood the value of a dollar (in a mostly vicarious manner) because my father certainly worried about money and kept a close eye on his accounts--however, my life did not depend on my ability to make the most of this value and that freedom--the freedom to know and subsequently ignore-- has made a world of difference in determining who I am, how I live, and what I want my future to be. I was out on the Town Green this morning at 4:00am (after a video chat with a friend) and the singular serenity of the campus atmosphere at that time was striking. It is a rare phenomenon in modern society to feel a peace so pure and so untainted by the natural sense of mistrust that has come to accompany the dark. Because, while darkness is not inherently undeserving of our trust, it experiences this collateral damage due to its close association with our true fears. These fears take advantage of the dark and make it a scapegoat for their own acts of depravity and sickness.
But I digress. Indeed, a college campus that has been cleared of its telltale daily indicators of academia (i.e. backpacks, laborious sighs, stressed minds, and tired eyes) suddenly appears as weary as its frequenters—-and as equally deserving of its night-time break as its humans are of sleep. I felt safe in the Utown darkness. The Green promised peace and I gladly accepted it. Thank you. Garden Rhapsody light show
7:45pm and 8:45pm on Wednesday, July 12th, 2017. Never has something been so touristy and hyped and actually worth all the fanfare. What a magical show. I can’t even put my finger on why; but those dancing lights will be one of my top memories of Singapore. Apparently electricity, engineering, and a good sense of rhythm are the only three ingredients one needs to make magic. <3 |
Authormy mind is full of gibberish and this space will keep me sane. we have a love-hate relationship. Archives
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