As exams approach ever more quickly, I am repeatedly struck with how much I miss TIP. The interesting classes that encourage us to learn, the fantastic people, and so much more have meant so much more to me than I can ever articulate, and sometimes I still can’t believe I won’t be able to go back. To any tipsters out there who can still go back, take my best friend Jackie’s advice: “These are the 3 best goddamned weeks of your entire life. Don’t you dare waste a fucking second of it.”
Llove you all and sorry for the tipression….
I'mmmmmm baaaaaccckkkk
Tip is over and I’m thoroughly tipressed. At this point I just have to look back on the good memories and continue to keep in contact.
To any followers of mine who are never going back to tip: I feel your pain, it’s impossibly hard to deal with. That’s why we all have to make it through together.
To any followers of mine who are planning on going back to tip: DON’T WASTE A SINGLE FUCKING SECOND OF IT. Everything at tip is better than at home. A bad day at tip is still 20 times better than a regular day at home. Savor every second and keep the llama safe!
oh yup another post about TiP
Congratulations! It is a pleasure to inform you of your admission to the 2012 Duke TIP Summer Studies Program, one of the finest summer programs for academically talented youth worldwide. Your application was one of almost two thousand applications received on the first day of registration. You have been placed in your highest ranked open course. We look forward to your participation in the following program:
From Bach To Rock: A History Of 20th Century Music
Duke University East Campus
Sunday, June 10 - Saturday, June 30
You have been awarded $1150.00 financial aid; your balance due is $2500.00.
YEAH. Bach to Rock East Term 1 2012.
With financial aid.
How could this get any better?
fellow East Term 1 TiPsters, like/reblog/reply/message if you’d like to meet me there ♥
Home (AKA Room 330 of Randolf Residential Hall)
I see
home
through the trees
and though I cannot
touch it,
I call it so
all the same.
There are stars
hanging low
tonight,
ones I once
could reach,
standing on the tops of
your upturned hands.
Together we all
picked them like peaches
from an orchard tree and
sunk our teeth into their
light, claimed the world
for ours with mouths full
of words unspoken
and shine not yet revoked.
I am utterly
forced to move on, but I
know, whenever it grows too dark,
I have a little shine left on my
fingertips
to take me
home.
