About Sex, Drugs and All Campus Filth
I’ve never been to the 4th floor where guys smoke weed with their horny girlfriends. There where the girls come to visit and spend their nights on the same bed with their boyfriends, in a room occupied by a couple of other guys. The same girls that need to shower the following morning, proceeding their dealings of the previous night. And since these are the men’s’ hostels, the guys have to escort their ladies into the bathrooms to cleanse themselves. In case it’s a weekend, the girl might want to spend the rest of the day with her uncaring-of-the-world lover. So they spend the day together in the hostels. Eating from the same plate and tickling each other in front of the rest of the room’s crowd. A loving girlfriend would also wash her boyfriend’s clothes while he stays there watching a movie or savouring the pleasure of scratching his balls all day, after all, they were in good use the previous night.
This is campus life and the crumbling of its cookies. They may be too sugary, or have too much dough, but they are eaten by those that lust for them. People like me who drink water in a sex party and crack jokes about animation movies or sniff our armpits instead of sniffing heroine are not the kind to live on the 4th floor. The higher you go from the ground floor, the further away from the world do you travel. And eventually into the jazz that stereotypes the urban, campus life.
The drugs are for real. Sex, is religion of its own, and fashion runs the block. If you can’t keep your swag, you can’t keep any eye staring at you and that culminates in no ear being wasted on you. Ouch! You have to move with the crowd, one way or another or you will start feeling like a lost wolf that has no clue where it heads or who surround it. And that’s scary, folks. It is.
Well, in the process of keeping the underwear as loose as everyone else’s’, a few hollow heads end up taking them off. But since there is no DJ to throw the underwear to, it will be dropped to the floor as other attires accompany it. Then some deep breathing and heavy sweating and finally some relaxation in the proceeding minutes.
A pleasure that lasts a few minutes, but whose aftermath can be as ramified as the veins of a man’s dick. Tight, but ramified.
Normally I do not write to argue or speak about what everyone already knows, but this time I will move away from talking about me and my not-so-entertaining life and talk about the people whom I am a part of. The youth in all campuses in this God forsaken country.
Alcohol has come to define us. Sex, determines every thought in our brains. One way or another, we make a sex reference at almost anything. A fruit, stationery or even the clouds shapes. It’s saddening, however entertaining it might be. We might all be yapping out loud about our liberty, our freedom and crap of the sort, but do we even have the time to reflect on what good we have ever done with that freedom from home that we so enjoy? No one to push you around, no one to boss you here or there or yell at your ear ordering you to collect the sock on the floor or flush the toilet when
you don’t feel like it. Yea, the freedom, but then the purpose?
If there is any crucial and delicate but important part of a person’s life, it’s their youth. And it can’t be wasted just so easily.
Personally, I have seen people’s futures wither away in the bad weather of campus life. One person I have known and a couple more I have heard about. For sanity’s sake people, whatever happened to moderation and being responsible? (This is the point where I lose it and break a sash), cause am disgruntled like an itchy nose.
I might talk, talk and talk to infinity, but I could hit a cul de sac. It’s up to you and your conscience. When your time to cry comes, be sure to scour for this article. It will make you say, “If only.”