My thoughts are stars I can’t fathom into constellations. (John Green)
In trying to come up with a topic for this penultimate (eek!) blog post, I found myself at a loss for words. Which, for those of you who know me, is shocking. Friends, family, haters (h8erz?), and disgruntled teachers will be the first to tell you that I’m more than a little vocal – but for once in my life, I can’t think of anything to say. My thoughts and emotions are virtually the same as they were in my last post: I’m staring at the end of my freshman year, disbelieving and sad and not ready to say goodbye to all of the people and places that I’ve come to love, only if for a while.
I’m not ready to be a sophomore. I’m not ready to start packing up my room in Wolman. I’m most definitely not ready for my Calc II final. I’m not ready to reflect on how I’ve changed or what I’ve learned because I’m still grasping at words to describe an experience that is largely indefinable. So, in this rare moment of speechlessness, I’m left with fragments, snapshots – anagrams of detached thoughts that can’t really be captured within such linear confines. As we get a little older, a little fatter, and (hopefully) a little tanner, I’m left with pictures that have already started turning into memories and the knowledge that, sometimes, there are no words.
Picture this: days blending into weeks, the disorienting blend of color and sound that is Spring Fair, thumping bass, final papers, the best nutella pizza you’ve ever tasted, last meetings, Sterling Brunch, formals (JHU_Kevin = perfect date), cupcake-making (and by “making” I mean “eating”), running around in a onesie (HAY TESS) – all images that sum up my last weeks as a freshman and my unwillingness to live in anything but the moment.
Picture this:
