A sense of nostalgia washes over you as you flip through your course syllabus. Seeing each old entry for past classes is like a punch to the gut. You flashback to artificial laughs at your professor’s corny puns. They weren’t quite comedy gold but more of a bland maize color. Your mind is called back to the material you wished you would be tested on again but never will be. You shed a single tear. The salty drop of sadness blots and distorts the ink, warping the rules you had been so intimidated by at the beginning of the semester.
A refutation of what Student Body President Ian Green bragged about
There is value in protests, but UF must be open to free expression
Complaining often fills a conversation
Our online presence is just a sliver of our personalities
If Hollywood must do a remake, keep the spirit of the original
Every band has to start somewhere
Today, students face more anxiety than ever, especially freshman