You’ll Never Get Ahold of Me Lucky Charms!
Hi! What college are you in? I’m in Seventh. What’s your major? I’m a biology major. I’m planning on going to medical school after I finish here. Are you Pre-Med too? Oh, you’re a Math-CS major? That’s crazy, I haven’t met many other Indian guys looking to get into programming. Where are you from? I’m from the Bay Area. You’re from a suburb outside LA? Wow, that’s crazy. I love the weather here though. It’s so nice and sunny all the time. The library is so cool too. It’s, like, so weird and tall. The view is so amazing. I know people say UCSD is “UC Socially Dead,” but I’m having such a great time! There was this bonfire, and even though it got shut down by cops, I definitely saw some alcohol and I think people were smoking a little bit. It was so exciting getting to meet new people. Have you seen Black’s Beach? I know it’s a nude beach, but it was so exciting to check it out. I’ve also joined some clubs, like the Medical Student Association. Are you in ACM? Wow, that’s so exciting. I’m also looking for things to do this summer.
Sir, If We Don’t Operate These Kidney Stones Could Kill You.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please, I can stand it no longer. These banal interactions of my day-to-day life are naught but torture on my well-being. I can no longer mindlessly repeat the meaningless personal details of my four-year experience at the University of California San Diego. I care not what college you reside in, nor for your major. Please, I only crave the sweet, sweet taste of the Makai poke bowl. Unless you are personally shoving those beautifully crafted slices of fish down my throat, I do not wish to hear you blather.
When I first arrived at Sixth College, I was excited and intrigued to meet all these new faces. I thought to myself, “Gee! College will surely be an important and transformative experience in my youth!” But no, UCSD has only made me begrudgingly accept the dull monotony of existence. I have succumbed to ennui. I beg Pradeep Khosla for the blessing that is graduation. Free me from this eternal torment.
I don’t want to hear your summer plans, if you think I’ll be a part of them you’re misled. Even the others in your so-called “friend-group” won’t be there. It’s the fifth week of college, everyone is dying for companionship. I will not be at your side as your seven one-week relationships cycle with different first-years. I will not be remembered in your college experience. You are nothing to me, other than another person in front of me in the line to my beloved poke.
The seven colleges are a mere gimmick to distract you from the truth: beneath the veneer of uniqueness is the never-ending desperation for more workers, more slaves to the machine of capital. You are not a scientist, merely an advanced factory worker. I pray you do not wake up to the truth, the realization that we are but ants among giants. And yes, if you were wondering, Seventh is now the worst college to live in. Suck it.