Editor’s Note: We’re clearing out the Innermost Parts vaults, posting several articles that were completed a while ago but got overlooked and were never published. Here’s another, from Scott, written during Passover break.
Pesach break is only in its nascent stages, but Brandeis is already pretty empty. Don’t be mad but it is. Or perhaps I was just in the wrong place. I walked from the quad called East to the dining hall called Sherman and it was a little eerie. I did not encounter a soul until I arrived in the room for dining. On my way out the whole top floor of the building was abandoned and all the lights were off. It was as dark as a darkroom, even though it was in fact a dark lobby.
Walking through Shapiro: the Campus Center, I encounter a vast emptiness that reminded me of my life. All I could see on the horizon were empty chairs and empty Shapiro Campus Center Libraries and empty Great Lawns. It was quite emblematic of how Brandeis fills me with joy, but when it is gone that filling will leave me wandering and empty.
Brandeis is not a place or professors, it is actually the people, and the students. We Brandeisians of this time period have each other all in one place right now. We can come back and stuff but there will be all these new jacks fucking up all our stuffz. There would be buildings but it would not be the same. One time in the movie Annie Hall, someone mentions Brandeis University. Well now I go there, and I also feel things there too, you know? And it is wild. Sometimes people read about Brandeis in a college catalog, and they read the name and stuff. It is weird that there are thousands of people at this college, but people are don’t understand the vast complexity of relationships and experiences there. There are a lot of us at Brandeis and each one of us is precious.