“I entered Merrill A with a bag of carrots in my right hand and my hallmate’s vacuum cleaner in the left. Because of the vacuum’s heaviness I had to use two hands to support its body, forcing my skinny fingers to pinch the plastic bag of carrots. Pressing my pointer finger and middle finger together I created a flesh clamp that ideally would keep the bag away from the ground. Unfortunately though, orange carrots still found their way through a hole I made earlier in extreme hunger. While I walked up the stairs to my room I watched all five carrots leave plastic bag, marrying the ground instead of my digestive fluids. If I could still cry I would have probably done this in response.”
I typed this out while trying to create a column under the label Tim’s Late News. Why did I write this? Was it out of nervousness to impress my older colleagues who are also writing for The Hampshire Howler? Why oh why did I have to walk into the first meeting late? Now I’ve become the butt end of the joke… Now my identity has been forgotten. I write this as a reminder for all my friends and family. Never be late. If you find yourself running low on time just don’t show up. It’s too dangerous to take a risk like that while at college… while you’re trying to find who you are.
But then again at least I have the opportunity to write for a college newspaper. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do and now I can finally do it. That by itself is great. No need to express high ideas or to spread ideal political theories, that’s all been done anyway.
So this brings me back to my original question: what is Tim’s Late News? My planner has written in it the phrase, “Tims Late News, find late news.” I like that being the objective for my writing. I will find late news in any way news can be late. Who was I last week? Do I change as an eighteen year old in a world where I communicate with my electronic device more than actual people? Certainly. There… that right there is some late news.
To be completely honest with myself my existence last week mainly fixated on trying to separate my dreams from my reality. Sometimes I have what seems like twelve different identities of my perceived person all trying to grab at different objectives. These twelve personas developed over time as I began to think more and more about who I could become in the future. “Where is the person who just sees what’s in front of me” I ask sometimes. “Where’s the version of me who instead of trying to schedule their actions around a future version of who they could become, acts within the realm of what they are at the moment?”
Breathe. Just breathe. It’s ok Tim. Instead of relying so heavily on your own intellect to discover who you are just let the world flow over you. So… yes. These were some things that you were last week but not anymore. You’ll find a real article next week.