Sightings

Back at Yale.

How is there even MORE construction?
Silliman is not finished. CCL is not finished. JE-BR walkway is under construction.
Something was done. I can't remember what. Old Campus is it's usual glistening self. Except President Dwight is under construction.

I'm gonna miss this place.
What I've realized I'll miss more though is the mission that pulsates in my steps when I'm here. I know exactly what I want to do. And I have a carved out a space for me to do that. That second step is what my life is going to be about for the next however many years. Carving out spaces.

When I'm back at home, I feel listless. I haven't found a community. It's just me and my dreams again. Just like Iowa. There has not been a concerted effort to find a community either. All in all, I've had less than 20 non-consecutive days to do this. I still feel like something is off though when I don't act. Or plan action.

It's that sense of purpose and iminent mobilization I'll miss about college. The urgent calls. The strategy. The action plans. The actions. That and the landscape. Isolating that makes it a lot easier to deal with leaving. Just a handsome campus and what I already had in me.

I'll fret over friends but, truthfully, the ones that stay will stay and the ones who leave will play out in transitory memories, a plesant type of haze that becomes less of a person and more of a feeling.

My biggest goal relating to it being senior year (read: not a life goal) would have to be making this nostalgia meaningful. Either by writing something like this and sticking it in the freezer to be enjoyed later or reveling in a moment. However, I cannot simply wallow in my own emotions and find the clock ticking even faster than usual. This will be a year of action and goalsetting. Finally trying to keep myself accoutable. I'm very excited.

So, about the sightings:
CONSTRUCTION
a building that has strangely become a home, Dwight Hall
Dean Salovey and his mustache entering SSS
The woman known as The Flower Lady
a building that should become my new home, SML
black people whom I do not know
I guess, Yale.