Full Blown Speakers

Best GIF ever. of life.

“When I had to use the bathroom at Kappa Alpha”

I think this is THE most accurate thing I have ever witnessed. well done trinlife, well done.

thetrinlife: When I had to use the bathroom at KA

You Can Never Go Home Again

One of my closest friends from college wrote this incredible piece on life post-graduation and the memories that we hold so very dear. Every description was down to the point and summarizes my, and I’m sure many others at Trinity and elsewhere, experiences. 

cheers to you

thescarletwoman:

the gates of old Trinity, in Trinity-Bellwoods park, Toronto

“In increments both measurable and not, our childhood is stolen from us — not always in one momentous event but often in a series of small robberies, which add up to the same loss.” 

                      - John Irving

Growing up is a funny thing, isn’t it? It’s something you’re always doing, every minute of your life. Every single second of our time on earth is spent growing up, and yet it remains curiously a part of the background, always there but almost invisible. Entire years pass by without a care to it; whole school years, whole summers - whole periods of blissful ignorance. Someone once wrote that the day you first worry about the future is the day you leave your childhood behind, and as more and more of my time is taken up by worrying about the future, I feel ever more acutely the passing of my childhood and the things I have left behind me. I feel the loss of time, the weight of memory. 

I find that many of my bittersweet feelings about growing up attach themselves to physical places as opposed to time periods, imbuing the architectural structures of my youth with a kind of wonder and sentimentality. I remember the first time I came back as an adult to my junior school, and how struck I was by how small it seemed. My memories of the ceilings being impossibly high were still so real to me, mixed up in those feelings of wide eyed youth and fear. Walking down the hallways I was overcome by those familiar pangs of loss that accompany the realization that you have left a place for good, and shall never return to it again as you once were. How bittersweet it was, to think of myself at that age. How impossible it seemed that such a huge amount of time should have passed without my even knowing it! I hated that the reality of growing up had intruded on my memories of this place. That they had been sullied by my adult perceptions of it. It is for this reason that I am wary of going back to places I have grown in - I am not one of those people who can visit an old house, or walk down the corridor of an old school with ease. Each brick, each window, each wooden beam of these places holds a memory that I am afraid to lose, afraid to see and reevaluate with older eyes. 

I have been thinking about the places of my childhood, because I am getting ready to leave what is perhaps the last of them - my college. Surrounded by the familiar trappings of academia and friendship, here we take our final steps away from our youth and into the wide world. It is the last. I will never have an experience like this again. 

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