Journalism Vidcast – Public Relations

By Casey, Witney, and Keelege

Observations

I am sitting in the Extended Hours study room in the Park Library. It’s pretty silent, with the natural sound of stress that comes around this time of year. Tired sighs, the printer racing to spit out paper, fingers typing furiously away at papers sometimes described as “bull shit.” I see two girls ending their long evening, and I feel happy for them. They whisper to each other as they slip on their jackets and bags, and hastily exit. It is a relief to see tables emptying. The man across from me is listening to music quite loudly on his headphones. I don’t blame him. It’s nice to drown out the world and zone into your work. Many people have a hand to their face, either twirling their hair, resting their chin, or stroking their beards. There are dozens of coffee cups in this room. The sky is black outside, the moon clouded over by rain. Quite a few cars are driving by, their lights shining into the window, giving me a headache. Some people are talking rather loudly, a giggle from a boy talking to a girl. If anyone walks, they walk with purpose: to the printer, to Java City across the hall, or for a bathroom break. I am happy to see no computers bogged with Facebook or Twitter. Everyone is here to do work. It is 9 PM and we are all here to get ahead.

Tonight, I need to write.

I realized this blog is specifically for educational purposes, but there is something about how secluded I feel when I come here to write that is very appealing on this evening.

After hours of conversation with my best friend, discussing a variety of daily and life-long struggles (most of them laughable), she is passed out asleep now, and I’m left here with many untied thoughts.

I have no specific vision for my future. In my mind, it involves packing my things up and leaving with someone who really understands me, or at least tries to. 

Someone who makes me understand things, too. Not just about himself, but about the world, about myself, about everything I have ever wondered.

I don’t need that person to be happy, but that is the vague sight I see when I think about “what I want to be.” I just want to be happy, and I’d really like someone to be there to share my happiness with. 

Someone to watch any kind of movie with, someone to enhance my musical library, and someone to completely stimulate my mind, soul, and body. Not one or the other.

I have faith that it will happen for me, some day. There are, as society likes to reiterate, “plenty of fish in the sea.” Some of those fish may already be “hooked,” and some of those fish may be too different of a species, but low and behold, there is one (probably more than one) that will really suit your fancy.

I hope I find him, or he finds me, or we happen to find each other. And as awfully cheesy as it sounds, I hope we can both help each other achieve our dreams. That’s what love is, isn’t it?