"And what do you think the courts said? They said, ‘Too bad. Life’s tough. Babies drown in puddles, poor people starve, and sometimes you chase a fox all day and you don’t get to have it.’"
- Tort Law Professor (via life-of-electraheart)
219th:

Another winter at Western. This might be my last one here, ever - and even if it’s not, it will be my last one as an undergrad. It’s crazy how the world just keeps turning, isn’t it? Time never stops, we keep getting older, we keep changing. But this place - Western - always stays pretty much the same. And while it stays the same, we change and morph and grow around it. 
I was walking through campus yesterday and I realized that I’ve come to see campus in very much the same light in which I saw my high school near the end of my time there. I walk around and know every hallway, every corner, every shortcut. I’ve met some great friends in these buildings, I’ve cried my heart out within these walls, I’ve even hooked up in a couple places. Where I used to see people much older than me finishing their undergrads, I now see people much younger than me just beginning them.  It all feels so… familiar. Comfortable. Small. I know people who don’t go to Western would laugh at the thought of someone describing a school this large in those terms, but it’s completely true.
I remember one time in first year, when my life was basically crashing down around me and I didn’t know how to be a student yet, I felt like I was being eaten alive by my university. I was walking up UC hill during exams, it was in the winter - (and for those of you who don’t know, campus is gorgeous in the winter) - and as I walked by UC, I felt so small. I looked up at that huge tower and saw it for what it was - grand, old, majestic - powerful. That tower had seen thousands and thousands of students walk by in the 150 or so years it has been standing, some of whom went on to be great leaders, some went on to work 9-5 office jobs, and some failed out because they couldn’t handle the pressure. I couldn’t help feeling like I was a cog in a machine, destined to be put through this hell of being a sub-par university student and just be chewed up and spat out. It seemed so… unforgiving. No longer did anyone care if I went to class, or did my homework, or even ate properly. Campus didn’t give a damn if I succeeded or if I failed - either way, the university would continue to thrive and the world would keep on turning.
In the same way that carbon is formed into diamonds through extreme pressure, I’ve come to realize that that is the unwritten, underlying goal of undergraduate programs - to take a child, put him or her under extreme pressure, and return that child to the world as a capable adult. I felt so small in first year - I felt insignificant and unprepared that night on UC hill, and I felt like I would be consumed by the pressures of my school. Walking on campus this exam period, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of calm. I feel prepared, tired, and of course a little bit stressed out, but I don’t feel overwhelmed. Campus, instead of feeling large and domineering, now feels, as I said - almost quaint. It feels like a friend that I’ve come to know very well - I know its ins, its outs, what makes it laugh and what makes it tick. Where I used to feel small and campus felt so big, it’s like the roles have been reversed - with me feeling a little larger every year, and campus feeling a little smaller.
The time has almost come for us to leave gladly - ending this journey, as equals.

219th:

Another winter at Western. This might be my last one here, ever - and even if it’s not, it will be my last one as an undergrad. It’s crazy how the world just keeps turning, isn’t it? Time never stops, we keep getting older, we keep changing. But this place - Western - always stays pretty much the same. And while it stays the same, we change and morph and grow around it. 

I was walking through campus yesterday and I realized that I’ve come to see campus in very much the same light in which I saw my high school near the end of my time there. I walk around and know every hallway, every corner, every shortcut. I’ve met some great friends in these buildings, I’ve cried my heart out within these walls, I’ve even hooked up in a couple places. Where I used to see people much older than me finishing their undergrads, I now see people much younger than me just beginning them.  It all feels so… familiar. Comfortable. Small. I know people who don’t go to Western would laugh at the thought of someone describing a school this large in those terms, but it’s completely true.

I remember one time in first year, when my life was basically crashing down around me and I didn’t know how to be a student yet, I felt like I was being eaten alive by my university. I was walking up UC hill during exams, it was in the winter - (and for those of you who don’t know, campus is gorgeous in the winter) - and as I walked by UC, I felt so small. I looked up at that huge tower and saw it for what it was - grand, old, majestic - powerful. That tower had seen thousands and thousands of students walk by in the 150 or so years it has been standing, some of whom went on to be great leaders, some went on to work 9-5 office jobs, and some failed out because they couldn’t handle the pressure. I couldn’t help feeling like I was a cog in a machine, destined to be put through this hell of being a sub-par university student and just be chewed up and spat out. It seemed so… unforgiving. No longer did anyone care if I went to class, or did my homework, or even ate properly. Campus didn’t give a damn if I succeeded or if I failed - either way, the university would continue to thrive and the world would keep on turning.

In the same way that carbon is formed into diamonds through extreme pressure, I’ve come to realize that that is the unwritten, underlying goal of undergraduate programs - to take a child, put him or her under extreme pressure, and return that child to the world as a capable adult. I felt so small in first year - I felt insignificant and unprepared that night on UC hill, and I felt like I would be consumed by the pressures of my school. Walking on campus this exam period, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of calm. I feel prepared, tired, and of course a little bit stressed out, but I don’t feel overwhelmed. Campus, instead of feeling large and domineering, now feels, as I said - almost quaint. It feels like a friend that I’ve come to know very well - I know its ins, its outs, what makes it laugh and what makes it tick. Where I used to feel small and campus felt so big, it’s like the roles have been reversed - with me feeling a little larger every year, and campus feeling a little smaller.

The time has almost come for us to leave gladly - ending this journey, as equals.