If campus graffiti can call itself art, carrel notes comprise their own complex genre. These thoughts from the lonely and barricaded student form anonymous conversations that probably considered the nature of life, the universe, and whether or not the EDMs are the hottest sorority or not, long before the internet. My discoveries included many lovesick poets, cynics, and seekers of the Deathly Hallows, but also a number of surprises.
From the totally baffling:
To the momentarily contented:
To the thankful:
And admittedly unlikely.
There are things we can reach an agreement about:
And also plenty of criticism:
And a few confessions.
To which various solutions were proposed:
Some more comforting:
At the end of the day, the Kenyon carrels left me with a ballpoint version of the spectrum Kenyon Confessions: a student body that is variously brilliant and troubling, but never boring.