August 16, 2004

Ah, to have just moved into your dorm...

And to have to immediately start cleaning because it's not so much the mold and the smell that bothers you, but the cock roaches.

Ah, to have just moved into your dorm...

And to have the first thing you do that evening be proclaim you and your orientation group pirates and run around the school with waterguns demanding cigarettees, alcohol, money, and condoms (affectionately termed "booty").

Ah, to have just moved into your dorm...

And be half drunk and singing "We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn, burn motherfucker, BURN" at 5am with 50 of your new friends in the courtyard, when you realize you have to go register in about three hours.

Ah...college.

Please let her go.
You had two good years.
You made her happier than anyone could.
But you don't do that anymore; you haven't for a while.
And you still won't let her be happy with anyone else.
You held her so tight that she grew into you, like a rose bush wrapping itself around rusty barbed wire.
Now she can't let go.
And when I reach for the petals, my hand comes back scratched and bloodied.
She has her own thorns, she doesn't need your metal tines.
But she can't let go, and no one can pull her away.