...that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet...

I'm just so frustrated right now. I can't stand it; I feel like I'm going crazy. I was in such a bad mood this afternoon. I hated everything around me, everything that was distinctly Biola. I knew it was a bad place to be in, but I just didn't care. There were all the skanky girls out lying on the lawns today wearing practically nothing. I'm surprised their makeup didn't just melt off their faces. Then there were the shirtless boys walking around trying to get the girls on the towels to notice them and see how nice they looked without half of their clothing.

I just didn't want to feel like that anymore so I turned on my ipod and tuned out the rest of Biola and walked around the campus. Mrs. Horton had these prize wining roses that she tended while she was here. Now they're planted in these small meager beds outside of Metzger Hall. I walked past them and bent down to smell them. I was astonished; they smelled so sweet and beautiful. Each flower smelled different from the next and they were all such vivid colors. So many were dying, the ground under them was cracked and dry. Still they were beautiful. I know that I've always loved flowers, roses especially; but now I know that I want a rose garden, full of blooming flowers whose smell is so savory and light. They made me feel so much better, but still as I looked at them dying and yet still so beautiful I felt that was how Biola was and is. I am dying here. The ground is cracked and dry, there is no water, no good earth to sink into. Nothing to make me bloom.