Word: hourse
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Yet here I am at 5:09 a.m., writing my last article for The Crimson. Lest you worry that I’ve woken up just to write these words, let me soothe your fears: I’m awake to DJ an Eric Dolphy “Orgyâ?...
Crazy as it sounds, there’s something comforting in this. It is perhaps a testament to four years at Harvard that I enjoy sitting in empty studios early in the morning listening to nothing but the sound of my own voice, but I like to think that there?...
I’ve thought long and hard (this is the second day of my Orgy, after all), and I’ve decided that what I find so appealing in these shows is their very isolation: there is something in the requisite three hours alone that I find amazingly...
I rushed to join activities, to date new people, to gather friends around me like life rafts to protect me against the incoming tide of loneliness. I worried about hours spent alone and phones that rang infrequently, and I became convinced of my own inability to be social and loved...
It was almost without knowing it that I fled to the one extracurricular activity I could find that could sanction my desire to be alone with the worry-free stamp of institutional approval. I had to spend two hours every morning alone listening to records; it was my job. While...