It is the worst of times, and the most liminal of times. Reading week snuck up on us with a slap and here we are during finals: broken, disheartened, and yearning for summer (why is it still 40 degrees in May, anyway?).
Welcome to my favorite time of year, when we all lose our goddamn minds, but like collectively so it’s like an NSOP exercise—a time when the simulation has never worked harder: Dark Night of the Soul.
If it involves your mouth, it’s in this photo set, I promise
this egg? in a shower?
the most effective doorstrop
in the deepest part of my mind, this is what i crave
you brought this JOE COFFEE all the way to milstein to throw away in the recycling
a ferris salad, presumably, unless its like diginn or worse: sweetgreen. whichever it is: you shouldve gone to hewitt. you deserved this.
The Father, the Son, and all your Vices
yet another misplaced drink in milstein
carman hall: it doesnt get better, really and truly
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