A newspaper sets an essay assignment, to respond to a piece about the disappearance of the "discrete experience" of college in the US, written by a post-boomer, about what University in this country has become recently
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In my head, I keep trying to write an extremely elaborate fusion Franco-American postcolonialistic layer cake, but every time I start to cut it up and serve it up, the crust falls in, because I keep making it without using flour, and my imaginary xanthan gum just isn't enough.
"Someday we'll look back on this and it will all seem funny."
There is a song by the bachata group, Aventura, called 'obsesion'. The song mainly consists of a duet, between a male, insisting that it's love, and a woman, insisting it's no such thing--it's a simple obsession.
At one point in the song, explaining to the man why she refuses to be with him, she tells him, "There's no illusion in your thoughts."
Towards the end of the night, I've noticed my superiors have this tendency to leave without telling me. Like, get in their car and go home, not just out back for a cigarette. I don't really mind, and it's definitely nice to have them trust me that much, it's just kind of... Odd.