Tuesday, April 29, 2008


I think my most significant experience with the feeling of exile would have to be a more literal one. My most memorable moment of exile would have to have taken place over summer vacation between my sophomore and junior year here at Wabash. My family back home was going through some rough times and I had no want or reason to go home and deal with the drama, so I decided to stay on campus to work over break. While it was alright in the beginning, with plenty of other students in town and on campus also working and doing internships, when August approached and everyone was finishing up their summer jobs and returning home for a short time, I was stuck on campus with just about NO ONE around. I swear I had to have gone about five straight days without talking to or seeing anyone. I was living in one of the small rooms in Morris Hall, so claustrophobia also began to set in. Some might see the more metaphorical sense of exile, as exhibited in "The Belly of the Atlantic," as a more influential or emotional experience (which at one point I would've also agreed), the fact is that literally being alone can make you go crazy. I usually am not a very chatty person and am perfectly fine being alone, but being alone without having any other choice presents a completely different feeling that I would never again like to experience.

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