Beautiful People


Tonight one of my best friends is crying in the library over an exam she needs to get an A on, in order to pass the class, in order to stay in her major, in order to pursue her desired career. The freshman down the hall can’t get his speech down to seven minutes and has to borrow my printer. The two girls across the hall have been stopping by intermittently between papers, lab reports, and art projects. A men’s suit jacket is on my bedpost, waiting for a button to be sewn back on before the fraternity formal tomorrow night. I am too overwhelmed with attempting to format a resume and application (for a competitive internship I don’t even want), to actually accomplish anything productive at all, so I am perched on my bed observing it all and writing this. We are sleep deprived, half zombie, half hero, humans. We are burnt out and on edge at all times, the most dangerous people to fuck with, brought to tears by the drop of a pencil, immediately followed by delirious laughter when we check the time, 5am on a Wednesday maybe. We are confused about the day and time, confused about the theme of this story, the structure of that molecule, the text message from a cute boy on the track team, or lack there of. We are confused about why we are here, and more often than not, we are most confused about how we still are here at all, how we have not just literally and figuratively dropped dead under the pressure and chaos of it all. But we are too confused about what will happen to us after this place, to actually get up and leave or give up. We are confused as to why this is all necessary, and why the “peak” of our existence must be spent wearing us down, while trying to simultaneously have fun and create memories of the “best four years of our lives”. We have no money, no time, no sleep, no dignity, and no clue. We have no idea what we are doing at all, but we all do beautiful things anyways.

(April 28 2015)


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