“When I see these brave forms of expression, so alive, so profound, I do not say ‘This is well said,’ I say ‘This is well thought’” 

-Michel de Montaigne, “On Some Verses of Virgil”

 

I call the university my temple, holy place, sanctuary, haven, oasis, paradise,

Shangri-La, et cetera…

 

Academia quenches my thirst- a drink of mineral water infused with lemon juice at dawn- the sun not yet risen- five minutes after waking, craving the sourness, and the sizzling bubbles…

I’m no camel, sleeping all night without a drop of water!

 

Academia to me…almost erotic.

 

Almost.

 

It seeks (seeks!) an honesty whose nude body radiates bluntly with fitness, and beauty, exploring its sexuality, or dressing in clothes with a style of elegance that offends only offenders.

 

“Professor.”

 

Dream job.

 

The intensity of hope and desire shakes me like a leaf in the breeze… makes my eyes drip a bit…

 

Knowledge and critical thinking, in theory, preserved and advanced…

 

Ah…the conversations, dancing in thoroughness, fastidiousness… the questioning feels like praying together, the analysis like group yoga meditation, findings and conclusions like miracles, the trading of lectures like gift exchange, at holiday celebrations…

 

The professors, tutors, my classmates: they are the glimmering emeralds, rubies, and diamonds

in the waterfalls of my memories.