As a freshman expected to be ‘refreshed’ from the time the world tried to shut down, I felt quite disappointed.

     Coming home from the first day of school, not only did I find the environment difficult to navigate, but I found myself difficult to navigate as well. 

      It seemed as if I could never fully prevent the inevitable backpack brush to the folks walking past and behind me. I often felt as if I were a 2015 Shia Labeouf when I walked into my classes a bit late. “I’m Not Successful Anymore.” 

     I suppose that as I evolved physically, socially, and mentally, so will my expectations of how growing older would really seem. 

     The musician Ben Platt has a beautiful, sentimental song called “Older.”  It comes from his debut album Sing to Me Instead.  We are able to hear him unwrap a world full of expression and the wise words he had once been told. He uses them to his advantage as he anticipates what a future Ben could really do. 

     I’ve always loved that song, but only recently has it really struck me how much I adore it. I suppose that, aside from a brain that has merely matured, I crave closure and wonder how I have gotten where I am. This grants me the ability to pull from personal experiences and anticipations. 

     My life seems brand new.  I go home to assignments at my door, as if an unwelcomed, yet necessary guest. As if the realization that time does not wind back. It does not even attempt to do so. 

     Reality television not only serves as a reward for crafting my escape route, but escapism itself. I set alarms in the morning to the early hours. I suddenly become the puppet master of my day, some strings harder to pull. This I have had experience with, from moments that have morphed into a singular blur. This is because they, themselves, are not refreshed either. 

     That is okay.