In the better interest of the blog and not so much of myself, I am posting a generalized story loosely linked to literature in hopes of sparking a little something something. This is my fourth year living on campus, and I'm tired. A bomb went off today at noon preceded and followed by a tirade of those monster truck rally air horns. I'm literally living on a construction site--the "West Campus Housing Initiative." The part of the dorms I live in, Founders, has that very foundering air to it. I think the ghosts of the founders are wandering around coercing me to be rebellious. The other, new! dorms are cookie cutter monstrosities that are creepily reminiscent of oppression. And in the middle of all of this old and new is a gigantic chasm in the earth.
"We live in a war zone" is the most repeated phrase these days. The atmosphere is tense and begging to be popped. As a part of a "getting to know you activity" we painted bricks as door stops today. In my building there is not one public refrigerator. In the cookie-cutters there are several thousand on each floor. I feel like I am a part of a lost generation. I lived in what is now that chasm in the earth not so very long ago and met some excellent people and had some excellent times. Now there is rubble and no proof. In my naivety and hopefulness I believed the spirit of my old building (aptly titled "The Class of '26) would live on. It hasn't yet, and I'm just sitting at a computer, writing my ass off, waiting for the fall out.
Hopefully Mr. President's secretary gets back to me soon, no one wants another red bud incident...at least not in this heatwave.
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You know what Alesia, they are essentially dismantling history and putting up parking lots (don't it always seem to go...?)
I'm not sure what will be left once there are like 15 of the monstrosities, but at least all the image-conscious freshman will have somewhere to lay their image-conscious sophomore heads once a year has made them wise with foolishness.
Take up the fight my friend and war until there's no more fight left in you, then we'll drink long island ice teas and laugh about the whole thing.
[Jon Papas says one day we'll join the passionless and that makes me sad...]
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