REFLECTIONS.
On Freshman Year:
I ought to have done this earlier. Two weeks was just enough time to turn sentimentalities into uncomplicated memories neatly tied together with a string of cliches. Get ready for it. Maybe there wasn't that much to be sentimental about in the first place. Or maybe there is. But I remember walking away from school with a mixture of sadness for what can't stay the same and incredible hopefulness for the changes to come. For the first time in years, I feel ambitious. All of a sudden, I'm not thinking about who I'll disappoint but what I want. In college, away from home and away from my past, the only person I ever had to worry about, the only feelings I ever had to take into account were my own. So I simultaneously gained substance and also gained a lot of room to do a lot of stupid shit. Never miss an opportunity to fuck up, do I? Go hard or go home, right? Not an applicable cliche? YOLO (always an applicable cliche). That said, there were some lows. Disappointment cuts deep. Can't decide if not being able to remember my worse nights makes it better, or not.
But there were also some highs (lolololololol). I spent eight months getting to know an incredible city, living on a beautiful campus, with beautiful people. And when I take that into consideration, I really can't complain; I am so incredibly lucky. Every day I spent in Chicago was a privilege--an expensive privilege, but completely worth it. I often measure (and perhaps incorrectly so) experiences by aesthetics, the people I encounter, and the stories they share with me. By those standards, in the words of Noah Shaw, this was the best year of my life and I really just can't stop myself from being grateful.
On Bonnaroo:
It's amazing how these crazy fuckers can blend into society so flawlessly once they reemerge into it. Places like airports. So many different people that they all look the same regardless--America's pretty pluralism. If it weren't for the subtle traces of mud on their shoes and the camping equipment on their backs, I'd never know they just came from a place that can be aptly described as a present day Woodstock.
Time stood still at Bonnaroo--in which time is adjacent to thinking and thinking adjacent to responsibility. I think if I stayed any longer, I'd be perpetually lost: floating, drifting, flying. But in a much less unbearable or ominous way than how I used those words in the past. I'm not weighted down by anything, but instead of feeling purposeless, I barely notice. There's nothing around to remind me that gravity exists, that burdens need to be carried. In the past, the trouble was not knowing which burden to bestow on my shoulders, lacking purpose while searching for fulfillment in a deliberate world. But at Bonnaroo, there are no burdens, just dirty hippies--and the only time you're living in is the present. It's nice as long as you don't realize.
Now that I'm conscious of it, I'm not sure I'll ever go back and enjoy it as much.
On Bonnaroo:
It's amazing how these crazy fuckers can blend into society so flawlessly once they reemerge into it. Places like airports. So many different people that they all look the same regardless--America's pretty pluralism. If it weren't for the subtle traces of mud on their shoes and the camping equipment on their backs, I'd never know they just came from a place that can be aptly described as a present day Woodstock.
Time stood still at Bonnaroo--in which time is adjacent to thinking and thinking adjacent to responsibility. I think if I stayed any longer, I'd be perpetually lost: floating, drifting, flying. But in a much less unbearable or ominous way than how I used those words in the past. I'm not weighted down by anything, but instead of feeling purposeless, I barely notice. There's nothing around to remind me that gravity exists, that burdens need to be carried. In the past, the trouble was not knowing which burden to bestow on my shoulders, lacking purpose while searching for fulfillment in a deliberate world. But at Bonnaroo, there are no burdens, just dirty hippies--and the only time you're living in is the present. It's nice as long as you don't realize.
Now that I'm conscious of it, I'm not sure I'll ever go back and enjoy it as much.
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