Salutations plebes. I’ve started to question the level of reality of this thing we call “Kenyon” “College.” As the days go by, my time on the hill feels more and more like a lengthy lucid dream. Sure, I have hours and hours of vivid memories stored in my little pea-brain of all the quintessential Kenyon moments, like passing a raccoon on Middle Path, and feeling that fleeting sense of spiritual connection between man and beast, or sitting at a New Side rectangle table for so long that your ears begin to ring and your vision starts to blur. But are those moments of bliss from my “College” “Experience” fact? Or are they fictions my neurons slap-dashed together on a particularly turbulent night of dreams? Am I really here, writing this catchup? Or am I tucked away in deep sleep, having an especially surreal dream that has quickly turned nightmare? Terrors of the brain aside, here’s the weekend:
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The Kenyon Thrill 