Oh.Wow.Lovely.

keepcalmwriteon:

Making questionable choices is a collegiate rite of passage: an initiation, if you will, into a life filled with face-palms and liver damage. From starting research papers hours before they’re due to attending class hung-over with sunglasses on—college students are known to make really dumb choices. What are some of mine, you ask? Well, drinking coffee at 9 PM when you don’t have a paper or exam due the following day. This may sound like a harmless decision in comparison to, lets say, running around naked like Will Ferrell in Old School, right? Think again.

After dozing off for 2 hours in my Astronomy class, I thought it would be a good idea to indulge in a medium White Mocha. My exhaustion tricked me into believing that it was smart to drink espresso when the effects won’t wear off until 6 hours after its consumption. As in, around the time I’m supposed to experience R.E.M and dream about Ryan Gosling.

And now, after I successfully finished my homework in-between distractions from Tumblr, I can‘t help but think “now what?”—there are only so many chemistry cat memes you can laugh at. When caffeine has done its job, all you want to do is sleep. Like Ron Burgundy from Anchorman, you immediately regret this decision (apparently Will Ferrell’s characters make a lot of dumb choices). It seems that regret is as much of a college staple as Christmas lights in dorm rooms. Did I mention it’s almost 4 AM?

 What I’m trying to get at is the root of this seemingly universal dilemma amongst college students, where we sacrifice days of sleep in hopes of a flawless 10-page analysis of Huckleberry Finn. Don’t get me wrong: I realize sleepless nights come with the territory of acquiring a degree. But aren’t we supposed to become dependent on caffeine when we have a full-time job, family, and mortgage to pay for? I don’t even have anything “significant” due tomorrow, and I still drank coffee because of how accustomed I am to relying on it for energy.

I feel disheartened when I interact with students that resent their college education—either because of the consecutive all-nighters or endless assignments that suck the fun out of learning. My Twitter timeline is constantly flooded with laments such as “It‘s gonna be a long night. #thecollegelife.” Then again, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t felt the same way each morning when I press the snooze button (in 5-minute intervals for an hour).

Which brings me to another dumb decision I tend to make as a college student: taking things for granted. I forget that I have the opportunity to attend college—an opportunity my mother was denied. When I grunt and sigh about how much work I have to do over the weekend, she never fails to remind me of how lucky I am. All of a sudden, a handful of sleepless nights don’t seem like such a bad alternative.

So when I sip my pumpkin spice latte’s during finals week (averaging 4 hours of sleep per night) I’ll try to ignore the fact that caffeine is my main source of nourishment and be grateful that I have the option to take an exam—even if I look like an extra in Dawn of the Dead.

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(Source: kcwo)

keepcalmwriteon:

I fell in love with books at a young age. While my classmates perceived summer reading lists as a dreadful chore, I felt like Christmas came early. This is probably because my mom would take me to the public library each month. Our literary adventures would conclude in two large Hefty trash bags, filled to the brim with children books. Whether it was the yellow-stained pages—or the old carpet-smell that emitted from those pages—books left me entranced. Along with this love for literature came my adoration for words. Yes, words. The fact that we, as humans, can communicate an intangible thought into a funny story, universal myth, complaint, or compliment—left me infinitely fascinated. It still kind of does.

My affinity for language morphed into a full-blown love affair when my mom bought me a pocket-size thesaurus in the fourth grade. The concept of synonyms straight-up blew my mind. Instead of saying that I “liked” something, I would murmur that I was “fond of it” or that I “fancied it” (pre-Harry Potter) and my 10 year-old self would beam with prideful joy. Translation: I’ve been mocked for my word choice for over 10 years.

Unfortunately, the downfall of loving words means you assign them so much power. You forget that while words allow us to empathize with each other, they are inadequate representations of feelings and emotions. Words are just projections. There’s a reason why the phrase “you had to be there” exists: experience cannot be accurately expressed, only lived. The Romantic poets constantly oscillated between this paradox—how words don’t really portray the complexity of the human condition, but they’re as close we will ever get. All we can do is embrace it (and blog, of course).

What I’ve learned is that sometimes people manifest their appreciation with actions and not words. And sometimes, you have to give credence to someone’s actions as opposed to what comes out of their mouth. I have given way too much importance to people (both romantic and platonic) because of a few good conversations. They painted a lovely picture with language—but in in the end, it was never enough.

As I’m on the cusp of quasi adult-hood, I’ve realized that actions shouldn’t go unnoticed. My dad isn’t the most sentimental of creatures, but the man does everything for me. He may not say he loves me everyday, but he shows it when he asks me if I need anything from the grocery store or when he offers to do my taxes so I can have some extra money. Or when he flies up to my college on the other side of the east coast to help me put my stuff in storage, because he wants to alleviate stress from finals week. No, not even Shakespeare can articulate that kind of unconditional love.

So while I ‘heart’ words and have signed up for a lifetime of reading a whole lot of them, actions are still important. Probably more important. Maybe love is as easy as taking out the trash once in a while, or doing the dishes. Maybe that is more meaningful than an empty “I love you.” As my Buddha-esque professor once divulged to me—we live in a world of actions. You can say how you’re going to do something until you‘re blue in the face, but your words are devoid of meaning until your verbal intentions become tangible accomplishments.

That won’t ever stop me from reading a damn good book, though.

(Source: kcwo)