IKTC’s newest series is On The Wye River, a collection of memoir-esque musings and essays birthed while ruminating on a backyard bench. I’m kicking it off with this snippet about my return to school — this is the closest you’ll ever get to reading my diary, so enjoy.
I hate writing about college. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the content university provides me— this hotbed of intellectual stimulation and intoxicated decisions makes for great creative fodder. But whenever I get meta writing on this whole college thing, I question whether my words are any better than whatever reflection The Odyssey has just chewed up and spat out for the fifth hundred time. If you have recommendations of good writings on the post-secondary experience, comment please!
Poetic or not, I return back to school (Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, MD) soon. I entered this summer battered and desperate to take a break from my life in Baltimore, but three months have smoothed my edges, and, as my current book suggests, allowed me to re-appreciate the distinct pleasures I felt at school. These very pleasures, however— social abundance, youthful sexcapades, educational rigor— are snakes; for as much as they have to power to bring me joy, they do too the power to give painful jabs to my psyche. Let’s take, for example, one night stands: at peak, they’re a flirtatious, invigorating thrill, and at low, they’re a hollow reminder of longing, a regrettably cheap fix. These days, I’m both excited, impatient and incredibly anxious to return to this gamble of fun.