After nearly two months of making friends, building connections, and switching majors/entire life goals every other week, the freshmen have finally  ripped off their masks and skin suits, revealing a crude, hideous layer of personality and character that had only surfaced in their former high school lives,  now coming back to wreak the havoc they had once originally set out for upon reaching the University.

“God, that thing was getting annoying,” one freshman remarked. “For the longest time, I kept having to act nice and polite to everyone I was meeting, suppressing the inner voice that kept telling me to insult them all the time and make fun of their hopes and dreams. But now, it’s off! It’s all finally off! Screw you, world!”

While some freshmen hid absolutely nothing and exposed their entire souls, spirits, and past reincarnate lives to their respective dorm halls, others preferred to sleep hanging upside down in their dorm rooms, avoiding all sunlight and warm human contact until the coast was clear.

“I remember,” one senior recalled, “that as the year began even back in ‘13, all these losers would just come out of the woodwork trying to ‘reinvent’ themselves by trying be cool or insightful in conversations, and I kept just thinking to myself, ‘Stop it, just shut the fuck up. Being a dork is just part of your natural genetic predisposition, and that’s never going to change, no matter where you go or how hard you try.’”

“I was just glad that the superficial stage of college was over, and we could all just go back to walking around avoiding eye contact, like what you’re supposed to fucking do.”

Some freshmen however, were still completely unaware that the “fake it” state had passed. “Yeah, so I’m thinking of majoring in optical engineering while doing pre-med,” a freshman wearing a Princeton t-shirt said while trying to pick up a girl at a frat party. “It’ll be a little hard at first, but I’m sure I’ll get through it. I mean, UR was my safety anyway, so how hard could it be?”

Two weeks later, after consulting with the freshman’s classmates, one said, “Yeah, I remember that guy. A bunch of people saw him crying right outside of the exam room after taking the CHM 131 midterm, and then he just disappeared from the school forever. Word has it he transferred to RIT to give himself an easier time.”

But even as the thinly-veiled monstrosities oozed across the campus, there was still a prevailing sense of confidence and endurance that had yet to be fully tested. One professor, though, fully aware of this, claimed, “Don’t worry. We are quite aware of this problem, and we intend to purge it in a timely manner soon enough.”

Daddy dearest: a taxonomy of lifelong hurt

Living a life watching my father hurt me and my mother has made me think that women are born to suffer and we live to endure.

Notes by Nadia: The joys of college

My most favorite part of being a college student is delaying the inevitable: becoming an actual adult.

Meet UR’s furriest therapist

Sasha — UR’s first therapy dog — helps comfort a steady stream of students during her office hours in the Interfaith Chapel, and her role around campus and the community is growing.