Nine Things I Miss About College

I graduated college eight months ago. Looking back, I cannot BELIEVE how fast those four years flew right on by me. I walked into my empty, depressing dorm room that first day as a timid 18-year-old who had NO clue what college life looked like. I was completely unprepared for the years ahead of me. I can still feel the subdued excitement and nerves that radiated throughout my hall on that first move-in day. It was crazy!

I fully believed that I wouldn’t make one friend during my time there, and I KNEW that I’d probably give up after the first semester of this nonsense. Luckily, my fears turned out to be unfounded.

College taught me an incredible amount about myself–who I really wanted to be and who I did NOT want to be, how to think for myself, how to turn bad situations into better ones. I made some great friends and made some really incredibly stupid, ignorant decisions, as well.

As I look back on those years that are somehow now locked into the past, a few things stand out that I seriously really do miss. A lot.

  1. Knowing that sweats and t-shirts are life — no explanation needed.
  2. Freshman year — oh man. How on earth did I feel a need to be stressed out that first year? I don’t even know. But I DO know that it was the most relaxing and spontaneous time of my college years. So much free time to hang out with friends and enjoy pretty near everything college has to offer.
  3. Naps — these are acceptable little pleasures in college. No one tells you this, but once you’re NOT in college anymore, their acceptability somehow greatly diminishes.
  4. Knowing that Nutella is life — it is! Was? It just is, alright?
  5. Being surrounded by people my age — campus was a never-ending opportunity to make friends and be around people who were up for anything at any hour of the day. Those were some great times.
  6. Having to study — Let’s be honest. The ever-present prompting in the back of your head telling you of your need to do homework and write papers and practice is death. It is not nice. But now, after knowing for the first time since I was like five years old what it feels like NOT to have school as the major part of my life, it’s a little sad. And I kinda miss having to study.
  7. Feeling like the future is a blank page — I love my life now. But there’s something I miss about that question of the future, like What will I be? Who will I become? Where will I go? I know not all of these questions have been laid to rest, but things are definitely more set in stone now than they were then.
  8. Being able to justify eating at any time of day or night — snacks at 1 in the morning? No big deal. I mean, you do what you have to in order to get through those cram sessions.
  9. Having energy — I don’t know why, but my energy has left me high and dry. College was a wellspring of endless energy allowing me to stay up all night and be fine the next day. Now? Is 9:30 an okay bedtime for an early twenty-something?



on journaling

Buried deep in the crevices of this my friend

Lay unspoken dreams, and shadows therein.

White pages have patience the living do not;

Words cannot utter the comfort they’ve brought

Me while wandering silent through unlighted woods,

While in quest of knowing logic the best I should.

The nonsensical ramblings I now call my own

Have inside only me: They’re my own home.

Daylight Persists

Home in lightless sorrow, she 

Dwells among the empty white 

Walls--They hold her secret so

Softly. Perfectly blissful her

Sorrow lives now, closed to all

Outside pity. 

Once a day, routine brings her

One illusion of light in

Hiding: Everlasting Sunshine--a

Bottle of shower gel sits

'Gainst the cool, marble-like wall,

Its odor filling the air. Taking

After its label, it colors the 

Marble's blank stare with its warm, 

Purely golden aroma of daylight.

Try as she may to escape any

Relic of warmness once touched,

Everlasting Sunshine, in various

Forms, continues to tap

  -subtly and secretly-

Into her heart frozen in 


Dominion of Darkness

My soul at all times lurks dangerously close to

The abyss flooded, seeping with darkness, through

Which no mortal can see light, but the abyss creates

Its own deceptive glow. Darkness, delicious, flings wide its gates

And gropes for my soul. Blood, edged in strange glows,

Appears deceptive, yet inviting as so smoothly it flows.

Evil prowling about seems not wrong, but cold

As it brushes past, freezing but bold.

Like moonless night holds protection in dark,

Or the black, darkest dream is sweet, in part,

So feels this evil, this nightmare, abyss. But somewhere deep inside says something is amiss;

I feel it within the presence of blackness felt so long,

But is this really all so wrong?

Why is my very being drawn with passion toward

What I know all mortals should strongly abhor?

Black is lighter than all things white,

But it takes also on a more dizzying height

From whence I could fall and plunge toward ground

Without even uttering the slightest sound.

Notion Floats Onward

Whisperer .

Silent she floats through the trees of her

Choice, and the time of her breezes is none but of

Own; Inspiration and She are as one, unified,

Sighing through treetops who bow with her



Now, O Enchanter, allow me to see all the

Signs of your work! Where you’ve come all the leaves have been

Shaken from their limbs; where you’ve left even branches will

Proudly remember departed stalks. Some boughs have



Wanderer .

Gently and scarcely felt by beholders,

She glides on toward others, gathering

All the aromas from previous hosts, so to

Sprinkle on new prey, who gains from the woods left by


We Are Art

We’re the creators. The artists of the world, if you will. In the midst of life on its ceaseless rampage, nothing is more satisfying to us than creating beauty out of this chaos. The most trivial snapshot can proove to be just the right haven, whether it’s through soaring melodies, eloquent words on a page, intricate dancing, or warm brushstrokes. Expressing ourselves is an outlet. A necessary outlet.

The world needs more beauty in it, or rather, people need to be able to escape momentarily from the world that becomes more and more chaotic each day and truly breathe in the gorgeous moments that scatter out before us like the sun breaking over the glassy ocean waves. We all share these chances to be inspired and choose to use them in the manner best fitted to our own liking.

Creativity–that amazing feeling of inspiration and the realization that you’ve had an idea that carries on its wings true potential–takes work. It really does. In order for me to create, I have to NOTICE things. Read things. Take note of what people do and say and act like. Or else it doesn’t come. In order to create meaningful art, I have to be relatable.

I like to keep numerous journals and diaries filled with different subjects–ideal quotes, love, thoughts. I know, most people (especially those who are more right brained) just engrave inspiring moments on their soul’s slate without even trying, at least it seems that way to me. But I have to write on paper in order to recall. Is it just me, everybody? Oh well.

I often feel that bragging rights come from being able to create something. I guess it’s kin to that feeling of accomplishment that arrives when something is complete. The first instinct and desire is to share it with people and glean their opinions and critiques.

For those of us who are the creators, life remains a meaningful chance to make what we love doing. We should capture each moment wisely.