Today when I woke up, I lied in bed
for fifteen minutes debating whether or not it was more appropriate to wear
flip-flops or sneakers to class today. Now, just before falling asleep, I
realize that this decision was the most influential thing that happened to me
today. The most stimulating debate in my mind. The most riveting bout of
knowledge. Shoes.
White-washed
walls are appropriate for this dorm. For this white-washed life. This morning I woke in an unusually a groggy
state brought on my lack of sleep due to staying up for late-night
conversations regarding college male’s inability to flush toilets and
disgusting habits of releasing fountains of vomit into a urinal. Apparently,
since freshman males lack the decency of my potty-training baby sister, “how-to-flush”
classes are in order. This early-morning conversation was the second most
stimulating part of my day.
Back to
the white-wash. It’s not entirely white. Scuff marks and dirt smears tell the
story of riveting commutes to classes, trips to the drinking fountain, and late
night drunken-stumblings that include bumping into the wall. The one beside
J212 and J214 is from me. In a Socrates
Meets Descartes induced coma, I shuffled my way down the hall to the
drinking fountain on a study break. I tripped on my flip-flops. Maybe if I had
chosen my sneakers that day, the hall would be cleaner.
Socrates Meets Descartes. This may sound
like a text assigned for my Foundations
of Ancient Philosophy in Relation to the Father of Modern Philosophy course,
but in all actuality, such courses seem to not exist in the real world. That’s
why I spend my study-time reading texts entirely irrelevant to the daily quiz I’m
doomed to fail tomorrow.
But I’m
getting ahead of myself. I woke up, decided on flip-flops, and paraded down the
hall on my way to yet another day of learning how to achieve A’s without
learning a thing. Walking through the first floor towards the door, I looked at
the ceiling. The RA hung oriental lanterns there, unlit due to fire-safety
rules. Not even a fake candle,
pretending to be burning in order to better illuminate the whitewash. These
lanterns and I have a lot in common. Not even pretending to be illuminated with
fire amid this academic setting. But at least I have footwear to entertain me. The foundations of my wardrobe are the flip-flops on my feet.
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