Home and Lawn

It's roughly 4am according to the 4 clocks within my reach. But after sleeping for 18 hours I suppose it's OK to be awake. Also, one should note that the song "The One," by Sharam has been on repeat for the last 3 hours. It's so good. The One - Sharam

This post will be rather lengthy if I pace myself properly. Thoughts to write have been in the limited works of my mind for the past few days. Now, with exams over I have time to write them.

They all started the morning I woke up on Tuesday. Tuesday I slept about two hours. I had a huge paper to turn in as the final for my Soc class. Even though I planned to grab six or seven hours, I was so paranoid that I would miss the turn in time of 1 pm, that I couldn't relax long enough to fall asleep. Finally, around 8am, I passed out with exhaustion only do disappointingly awake two hours later.

I took my paper to class and unceremoniously handed it to my professor. She said to me, "Thanks you, it was a pleasure to have you in my class, your insights were always good."
I said, "Thanks for teaching the class," awkwardly turned around and returned to my previous state of semi-consciousness. I walked to the union where I bought my final two coffees of the year. These would get me through the that day and my final day. God bless coffee during exam week.

Walking back to the shuttle with coffee in bag, bag in hand, and headphones on head, a sudden thought occurred to me. While it was blatantly obvious it was more the realization of that moment that struck me more profoundly than the discovery of such an obvious fact; this was the last time I would walk out of the student union. I looked over at the center of campus and then down the hill to the lake. "I will actually really truly miss this place," I thought to myself.

I looked up at the sky with wonder of the infinite gray. It was so bright and so powerful yet not at all beautiful. But, it encompassed everything with such still momentum I could not help but gaze in amazement. When I looked around the world that was held under the blanket, the color was gone. I looked for saturated hues of blues ard red but they were nowhere to be found. The concrete of the walkway and the buildings only further isolated the true palette of possibility from the gray matter embracing the horizon.

I put my headphones on and turned the volume up all the way (which is locked at halfway). I put on Armin van Buuren's A State of Trance 400. His live mix from Wuppertal Germany spoke to me when John O'Callaghan's 'Find Yourself' blasted into my ears. The world certainly did not have any color but the sountrack was brilliant. I put my iPod back into my pocket and looked back up at the sky. Whatever happened in that moment, I thought to myself, couldn't change the perfection of thatsingle instance walking across campus.

"You'll find yourself, you'll find yourself alone." That was my mantra. The lyrics applied too perfectly to my situation. In my heart I wanted to believe that she would find herself alone and think of me and everything I had to offer. Oh well, fuck her.

I looked at my watch and noted that I had about an hour and a half to get all my stuff together for my next exam which was speech. As I considered this, a kind of sadness crept up this perfect moment. Speech class was crazy, in a good way. Everybody in there was so laid back all the time about everything. It was. by far, the most unstressed course I have ever taken. We usually spent about half the class just talking about random and trivial events or stories. But somewhere in there we covered structures and techniques to speaking almost every day along with the astronomical amout of presentations that were given over the semester. I would attribute it all to the professor, who was one of coolest instructors ever. It was sad to realize that on that day, I would walk into the room with that class and then leave to probable never see any of them again and more and almost indubitably never walk into that classroom again. With this, I picked up a kind of solemness about my day. It dampened the earlier euphoria that I had momentarily gained, but I trudged on.

When I got back to the bistro, the food tasted the same but better. I think I even went back for seconds! My starchy lunch picked me back up a bit and I had a wave of happiness ripple over my anxiety worn soul. I gathered my stuff soon after, and headed out for the final hoorah of speech. When I walked in it felt very much the same. People were talking and conversing just as usual. Then the exam came. I finished it quickly, not that it was difficult. But I didn't want to turn it in. I flipped it over back and forth as if to check my answers, but I just didn't want to turn it in and leave. That would just be it. But, finally after much hesitation about hesitating to hesitate I put the paper down on my instructors desk. He graded it promptly and told me my grade. The entire remainder of my classmates then discussed my grade and changed their answers. It was a fabulous moment and the very thing I needed to experience just before leaving that moment of time forever.

The rest of the day soon became a blur, but I won't forget the reflection of the moment easily. Nor will I probably ever forget the moment that marked the end of such an enjoyable class and contemplative morning.
More later. Until then, check this out: CDJ400

This My Friends, Is The End

To whom it may concern,

I am sitting in the lounge of J-wing in the enclave of the honors hall here at my dorm. I have removed every last thing that was in my dorm room, leaving it with the eight bare walls and no resemblance of anything my own. The building is currently emptying out too, the same kind of emptying of my room, on a larger scale. Soon it will just be a building and everything about it that ever made it special or memorable will be gone. The point of course, is that the people are the common denominator of significance. To be totally fair and honest, I am leaving this place for much longer than just the summer, because of the people. Not because the people here at lacking in anything, but because I suppose I'm on a quest to regain a fraction of the wonder and awe that was my freshman year at BG. I am always struck by the lack of ceremoniousness about all of this. Everything happens with a terrific lacking in cliches. I want to let myself cry as I see people, who came to mean so much in so little time, pass me by with their belongings for the summer hiatus. The truth is that I didn't come here for friends. When the real reason I came here changed, I was still not here for the people. But slowly because of how wonderful most everyone was, it became OK to let my resentment for this place's attachment to my scnenario slip and for me to enjoy the "honorable" company around. But in doing this I have been left with only resentment for my own weakness and actions. There were far too many moments when I acted outside of the person I am. There were far too many instances where I had chances for redemption but only dug deeper into portraying a facade that I am not. So I suppose my regret is that I gave back so very little to the community that meant so much. I feel bad that the people who are here don't know me like I know myself. It is in this too that I realize it's not entirely my fault that only a sliver of who I am shown through my worried skies.
The main thing here I suppose in this dumb assessment is that this was a substantially impactful section of my life thus far and I cannot express with deeper appreciation that the people I was with for this time were the honors residents of this dorm. Some of you were especially important to me, whether or not I expressed it to you (definitely not). But most of you will be remembered for a long while regardless of favortisms :). I hope to come back and visit. I hope to keep in touch. I hope that one day, whenever it is needed, that I can be such a support for each of you as this entire community has been for me. I have taken much and given little back and for that I am sorry.
Good bye to some and See you later to others, you will all be in my heart and on my mind.

Thank you,

-Fife

Love is Luck

The odds of finding love at all
are dwarfinly microscopic to towerously tall
Still, if you're fortunate enough for a happen upon
by the time you realize it, it's often gone.

Chance cares not about actions or thoughts,
but the side of the dice and amount of dots.
The odds are stacked monstrously tall,
and once you're in, you have to call.

Love is luck and a gamblers game,
and for you my dear that's an awful shame
because I cared enough to make this sacrifice,
but all that mattered was how I rolled the dice.