vlad the illusionist

​Fall descended on campus like a cold dream and I felt like I was losing myself in the transition. Who knew the despair I felt as a first year would evolve thoroughly into a benign indifference that was so appropriate and gratifying for my undergraduate adulation for listless nihilism? To study seriously is to detach almost completely from the social, and it was wonderful for someone of my nature to fall so fortuitously into scholarship. Dissociation is submergence and submergence is transcendence. I submerged myself into magic, mysticism, and totemism and hardly ever did I look up to see if anyone was watching me.
 
The conclusion of my Statistics class welcomed the early evening and I was off to the library for no reason at all. I carried with me, in my LL Bean Backpack, labeled with my name in a silly italicized font, Kaitlyn, two books of importance. Who said that one should not let their academics get in the way of their education?  I admit that I didn’t take that piece of advice as seriously as I could have, and focused maybe too much on my academics, to the detriment of my education. My academics was hypostatized by a couple of serious books that I have read deeply and was re-reading for advanced submersion. Frazer’s The Golden Bough and An Inquiry into some Points of Seamanship bobbled up and down in my backpack as I sauntered down the pedway, head down averting the gazes of my peers.
 
As surly winds rearranged the foliage of the quad, I gripped tighter the novel I held in my right hand. I was underdressed for the chilliness of the evening. Perhaps I was cooling on the immensity of War and Peace. ​

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