What I’ll Miss about Guelph

Sun is streaming through the skylights in the UC and a funky band is jamming a sweet beat on various percussions, some electric guitars and a sitar. The beat pulses in my feet but it feels like it belongs there, or I belong here. Hippie kids sway in the sun patches not with any particular rhythm. The smell of coffee blends into the mix from the table on the other side of the courtyard where well-meaners give out free fair trade coffee and chocolate. No slave labour. I forgot all my cash in my blue jacket. Useless guy in the band (you know, the one who plays the triangle) reminds be of a cross between Encino Man and a funky bongo player in a pilates video we used to do at 54 Yewholme.
It is nice to just take this all in calmly. Maybe I shouldn’t be this calm since i realized while trekking to school that as of the end of my last exam I have no definite future plans. Scratch that. i have a ticket to Bermuda. Other than that nothing is for sure. This is unprecedented in my life, I have nothing to reference, maybe that is why I don’t know what to feel. Which brings us to today’s word: Sigh.


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