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March 1, 2013
Walking across campus is like
living in a Whitman poem -
every passerby has a unique
existence, full of complexities
and nuances, and I’m an extra
sipping coffee, a clack of keys
against a lecture hall, a shade
of blue in a sea of students,
I’m a common factor spanning
thousands of strangers, and
there’s a beauty in that, I think.

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