Looking for some random, and now forgotten detail, I picked up an old journal of mine this weekend. On the cover is a poem. It's a sweet, uplifting poem about wishing on stars, dreaming and watching the world with curiosity. I remember my younger self, receiving this journal from my dad.
Endings are the worst. They're the worst in a different way for everybody too. Some people get really sappy and some people get sad and some people push things away and some people hold on as tightly as they can to whatever they can and it just never works out well for everyone at the same time.
This week, everyone is stressed. We're all swiftly approaching the end-of-the-year meltdown. Of course, I'm no different. I'm having my fair share of conniption fits. But I learned something very important about the end of any semester my freshman year of Spanish, from a guy, since graduated.
As the time for graduation comes along, it won't be long before graduating seniors are barraged with requests for Alumni Donations. Certainly, given the years of lacking investment in ancient dormitories, Battelle Hall, and various other areas these donations are desperately needed.