To paraphrase the great American poet Dorothy Parker, “I hate reporting. I love having reported.”

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I was born and raised in Miami. The first time I left for more than a few weeks was to go to Gainesville.

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I was born and raised in Miami. The first time I left for more than a few weeks was to go to Gainesville.

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President Donald Trump, as you undoubtedly know, constantly reveals fissures in the American public. He has shown, time and again, where the faults and cracks run through our shared ideologies — where they break, at times being separated by wide chasms, and where they meet.

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I can’t say I knew a lot of things when I started my first term as senator for Infinity Hall. Not only does our Senate lack any sort of transitioning between past positions, but I also happened to be the first ever senator for Infinity Hall — so it’s not like anyone could tell me what my predecessors were up to.

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“You’re canceled” is an internet death sentence. Twitter users have been given a powerful tool, and they are using it irresponsibly. The concept of going viral on the internet gives every user hope that one day, if they tweet often and clever enough, they too can win the retweet lottery. If the Twitter community and their infinite wisdom decide that your tweet makes the cut, your tweet can have an audience as wide as former President Barack Obama’s. Even if it’s only for 280 characters, you get to be slightly famous, and your tweet is seen by everyone who doesn’t live under a rock. I believe public opinion is dangerously susceptible to influence people from just a handful of viral tweets. A thread shaming a public figure can end their career.

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Darts and Laurels

Graduation is a mere few weeks away, and you find yourself thinking, more often than usual, “How the heck did I get here?” You think back to unloading your parent’s car in the front of Broward Hall in the sweltering August heat, and you remember the nerves you felt as you walked into your first college lecture hall. It feels like just yesterday, right?

You’ve been refreshing your email inbox every five minutes since you woke up at 8 a.m., patiently (or not so patiently) waiting to hear back from the company you hope to intern for this summer. You’ve gotten other offers, but this one is really it — the one you’ve wanted since freshman year that you’re finally qualified enough for.

As you speed walk to your 12:50 p.m. class because you woke up late, you finally reach the corner of West University and 13th Street. You’re sweaty and 20 minutes late when the Hub comes into sight. Will being five minutes late to lecture actually make a difference? You did bring a reusable traveling mug, after all. You go to the Starbucks counter, give them your typical order — a grande French vanilla iced latte, double the syrup with caramel drizzle and an extra shot of espresso — and they stick on the label.

As you drown in stress and scramble to finish a paper you should have started a month ago, you become eternally grateful for the large sum of Easter candy your mom sent you in a care package earlier this week. It’s chocolate bunnies and jelly beans galore: It’s absolutely everything your stressed out self is craving.