Lately, this idyllic little town has evoked an intense feeling of claustrophobia in me. Walk a limited amount of kilometers in each direction and you hit the outskirts of the place. Hold an ideal and it will do its best to provoke your betrayal of it. And that damned cobblestone. In a town otherwise designed for running through the nights and sleeping through the days, you’d think someone must have put it there just to mess with us. I don’t know where all this melancholy stems from. Perhaps it’s just the fallen leaves and sleep deficiency. Perhaps something entirely different.
Inspired by the ancient philosopher Seneca, I’ve been contemplating the importance of asking the right questions in life and of doing so sooner rather than later. As a result I have been asking too much and too big, which has left me with an unruly sense of restlessness. Sometimes this age confuses me, I have no idea weather to act like an adult or a child, leaving me perpetually caught up in some waste land in-between.
The other day I was strutting around town in 5 inch platforms as my mind wandered of. Losing concentration on the complicated task before me — walking — my heels snapped in response to the uneven ground and I went flying before I hit it. My friend, failing to see the humor in the situation, hurried to help me up like a true gentleman (maybe chivalry isn’t dead after all), concernedly asking if I was okay. I, on the other hand, was laughing hysterically. To me, it wasn’t the cobblestone, the rain or even my absentmindedness that had caused the fall. It was Lund. Lund was punishing me for failing to appreciate it. After all, it is a strangely beautiful utopia of sorts, is it not? One that can and should be thoroughly enjoyed, filled with youth, books, festivities and friendships. Forget fall, there is only ever one season around here; young and beautiful people leading a lazy, carefree life, partially occupied by scarcely absorbing studies, who are able to devote themselves unlimitedly to their desires. And have you noticed the change of scenery this fall has brought? The colours are almost shocking, truly magnificent. Catches me o guard sometimes.
So, you know, instead of wishing that my playground was a little wider and the world spun a little faster, maybe I just need a change of shoes for now. I’m going to celebrate my prodigal return by downing some flats, that will allow for a freedom heels never do. I also have a feeling that Hercules has missed me. And since I stand for ca 70% of Espresso House’s revenue I know they’ve missed me. The season is ripe for the taking, no bold deed shall go undone!
This is strangely relieving. Maybe I’ll start treating my editorials as diary entries.
One thing I am ridiculously excited about this fall is what this issue of Lundtan has in store for you. It’s about expanding projects, the future, the angst of student life and the glorious celebration of it. Written for the sole purpose of inspiring, educating and
entertaining you. This is my first issue as Editor-in-Chief, as I was passed the torch of honour by my predecessor Amez Arazu. I hope that we share more qualities than the likeness of our first names. When we proposed a web-based magazine at the
General Council elections last year, we were told that it would be impossible to execute in such a short span of time, yet here we are with the site up and running. I can’t wait to see what other barriers we’ll break this semester. I know you will be reading, so I’ll keep it adventurous.