A Eulogy for Fall Semester

Oh, Fall of 2009. Today I bury you, for good.

You showed me the awesome and terrible limits of the human body. The all-nighter, followed by the all-dayer, followed by two hours of semi-pointless meetings and a terrible nights sleep because the neighbors are always celebrating, loudly. You showed me the frightening depths of human intellect; how to skim an entire novel in spanish in under an hour; how to craft a thesis during a lady gaga dance break in the library bathroom; how to write endless pages; how to write more endless pages and revise the endless pages previously written and subsequently destroyed by a professor. You ripped the perfectionist right out of me, because sometimes, Fall 2009, there is just no freaking way to get everything done. Much less done well. Much less done well, while still showering on a daily basis and remembering to consume calories other than espresso-based beverages and the soup they serve at the student union. If there was a legal blood-caffeine limit for operating vehicles and theorizing from university classrooms, I would be in jail. I wager I could have triumphed over you, Fall 2009, if I had no life, no friends or other relationships, no feelings, and no existential crises about being a senior. Because I am a full human being; far more than my intellectual or even physical capabilities, you seem to have won this round.

You, fall semester, were hell, and I shall not miss you.

because being a senior means (at times) having no answers.

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer." --Rainer Maria Rilke ‘Letters to a Young Poet’ (1934)

"It is only clear to me that her waiting was not patient, not placid or resigned, and if she didn't know tomorrow's date, it was because what she yearned for wasn't coming tomorrow or the day after or even the next week, but it forced her to wait, to allow time to pass and the wind to blow." -- Laura Restrepo