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It was the best of times; it was the worst of times… quite literally. I tend to think of college as the shit years of my life — clobbered with the banner of good intentions that ironically (or quite possibly not ironically) made my life a living hell. Regardless, I still can't deny the greater reality that those years were quite possibly also the best years of my life too. Somehow, the memories and the lasting friendships that were forged in that period of time are some of my most highly prized assets. I feel blessed that, in this day of age, geography means so little in one's ability to maintain friendships.¹

Still, the feelings of resentment persisted. I had made up my mind never to give money to my alma mater or recommend it, and I made it a point to make that resentment well known and documented. The indignation that I felt was stronger than any of the warm, better memories of times past. One bad deed had erased an otherwise untroubled experience. Perhaps that's not the way that I should have felt, but it certainly is the way that I did feel.

I'm not going to say that any of those feelings just changed, but, last night, somehow, none of that mattered. Those wrongs weren't the focus of my thoughts.

I went down to Arkansas this weekend to attend two of my dear friends' wedding. To start of, there is just simply something about Northwest Arkansas that changes your perception of life. I don't believe in auras, but I can't think of a better word to describe it. Maybe, it's just simply the fact that I was away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Perhaps, Northwest Arkansas really is God's Country. Whatever it was, I can just say that almost as soon as I stepped onto the ground of the Natural State, I began to feel different.

I was too young to have seen Cheers when it was on the air, but the premise of the show holds true for me: I like being in a place where when I walk into it, everyone greets me as Wolfeman.² I like it when I walk up to people and they're happy to see me. I like it better yet when people walk up to me to greet me. In that evening, I finally confessed something to myself that I had lying to myself about: I loved my college years, and, if it weren't for the fact that I would hate my life becoming stagnant, I wish that college could have lasted forever.

Now, none of that means that I agree with how the university handled my situation. All that I got from JBU was a half-ass apology for “the way that things turned out”. What a great way to make up for actions that ruined my life. Then again, the truth that I'm finally admitting to myself is that my life isn't ruined — far from it. I'm just not going to let someone else's mistake ruin my life for me because I choose to have a bad attitude.³

This morning, I woke up and went to a church that my friend had invited me to. As I sat in the pew of Grace Episcopal Church of Siloam Springs, Arkansas and prayed to God, I felt a feeling that I hadn't felt in such a long time: peace. It wasn't the same feeling where you take your shoes off at the end of a long day, crack open a beer and breathe. The metaphor that is commonly used is having a burden that's strapped to your back fall off its harness. The reason for the metaphor, I believe, is because it really does feel like someone is unstrapping a heavy knapsack full of bricks from your back in the weirdest, it-feels-like-it's-really-happening-but-it's-not sort of sense.

I'm back in the busy city now — back to where life moves on with or without you. I really do wish that I could get away from this place and force myself to just sit and take in the beauty of life as it is. As I was walking back from church this morning, I realised that I was walking really fast through the town. I had no place that I needed to be, so I slowed down and took it in.

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1. Ideally, this is the case. Reality is another matter.
2. By the way, I hate this name.
3. No, I'm still not sending you any money.

I was thinking about buying a game console for no other reason so that I could play The Beatles: Rock Band. That way, I could learn all of their songs. Then, I realised: I own a real guitar and most of the Beatles' albums! Who needs Rock Band?

The delete key serves as a constant reminder to me that nobody is perfect. Why is it that while I'm fully aware of that fact, I expect perfection in others? Well… maybe not perfection, but let's just say that I have too high of expectations that people fail to live up to.

I don't know where I'm going with this. Actually, I do, but I'm lacking the creativity tonight to express that in an appropriate vagueness.

I'm really running low on material this month.

• Braum's
• The State of Arizona
• Macaroni Grill
• Heroin
• Twitter