Sunday Morning

Posted on September 12, 2010

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Sunday mornings on a college campus are a spectacle unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It starts early, with the diehards staggering, or being carried back to their rooms as the sun rises. Then comes the great migration that is the Walk of Shame: people quietly slipping out of random rooms and walking down the hall with as much dignity as they can muster, adjusting the clothes they had been wearing the night before that are now stretched out and don’t fit right, their dark and daring fashions seeming garish against the light of the sun, hair in a bewildered mess of chaos.

Then comes the cigarette and coffee crowd, the gnawing of their respective addictions waking them before they were ready; they roam the campus looking for their fix, or a designated place where they can have their fix. The smoking area, normally a jovial circle of conversation, is somber, nobody wants to be there, and they suck down their cigarettes looking to placate their unsettled stomachs and pounding heads.

All day, people wander around in a daze, aimlessly going through the motions, trying to forget, trying to remember, trying to break through the fog that’s keeping them from truly waking up. Walking around, you can feel the combined effort to not be sick, that feeling that everyone is feeling but no one is talking about, for fear of breaking the spell of not being sick that everyone seems to be able to maintain.

On Sunday morning, the spell is broken. They have to come out into the daylight, and discard their masks of anonymity, of heavy makeup and high heels, of music so loud you can’t think, of strangers suddenly becoming friends, of not caring about consequences, of what the hell, I’m young and you only live once. On Sunday they have to do laundry and homework and grocery shopping and untagging Facebook pictures and all those other responsibilities that come with reality.

On Sunday morning the curtain goes down, and everyone wanders around backstage, suddenly having to pick up the pieces of their real life once their cathartic escapism ends for the night. And as they leave to go back to reality, all they can think about is the next show.

Posted in: HSU Happenings