college gothic
someone in your class mentions communism. they speak about it at length. you are in biology class.
you text your mother. she does not respond for 3 days. you text her again and then realize that it has only been 2 hours since your first text.
freshmen travel in packs. what are they afraid of.
your class is in room 153. the numbers start at 201. you cannot find the first floor.
someone is talking about communism. it is not the same person as last time. this is an english class.
your transcript says you have an A in philosophy 3310. you do not remember taking this class. what did you learn? what did you do?
you meet your elevator buddy. you do not speak. you never do. you ride in silence. one day, they are not there. you miss them.
your advisor refers you to the registrar. the registrar refers you to admissions. admissions refers you to both the registrar and your advisor. you have spoken to two people who do not exist and one who has been dead for ten years.
the boy who sits next to you wears the same clothes everyday. you think this is strange but when you mention it, he tells you that this is the first time he has worn this outfit. you realize that you have lived this day before.
you pass someone sleeping in the quad. he has always been there. stop looking at him.
someone answers, “communism.” it is not someone who has been previously mentioned. the question was, “what is an example of the art of ancient greece?”
you have a doppelganger on campus. you have never met them. they know all of your friends.
the seniors speak only to professors. their eyes are dead. they have given up the safety of the pack long ago.
the professor is talking about STD’s. your math class is very strange.
the powerpoint is in comic sans. you suspect that your economics professor is an extraterrestrial being after all.
“communism,” the man serving you lunch insists. wearily you nod. that’s what everyone says.
