Chapter I: “… image has forsaken its once unimpeachable hold on the truth” (3). Can the word reestablish its claim? What makes certain media more “true” than others?Does it make sense to think of an immediate (unmediated) truth?

It is finally the last day of junior year. Never have I been so ready for a year to end. Not that it wasn’t great for a lot of reasons. It really was. But its like when I called mom a few weeks ago. After telling me a story of chasing a dog down the street in heels and tackling it to the ground, she said, “Ever have a week you just know that once its over, things will be great?”
I’d say it’s relatively safe to say that Junior year was the equivalent of wrestling a runaway dog to the ground. It’s been a bizarre, exhausting and super rewarding year. I think I’ve learned more this one year than I have since I left home. Probably because it’s been the most proactive year I’ve ever had, thanks to very specific people.
Watching this summer inch closer has been like growing a garden. I can’t wait for it to bloom and be overwhelmed with smells and heat and taste and color.
The smell of a church, heat of nerves, the taste of cake and the color of blues and of yellows. Matthew likened heaven to a wedding celebration. Jessie put it perfect when she said that Sarah’s getting married might just be the most exciting event in her life so far. I’d have to agree. But what does that mean for us now? A passing of the torch, really. It means that the responsibility of keeping Pensacola, Christmas and cousins who are more like sisters falls to the front of our to do lists. I’ll take it.
I’ve got one week left. Strictly finals, and then I’ll be home. It seems like any clock or watch I own has decided to quit on me. With one week left time seems to have pooped out, and refuses to budge. Only because there is so much to look forward to this summer. I went back and read my previous post about my last day at the Y last summer. There’s nothing better than to be going back. I can’t wait to see those kids, be sore from rocketing little into the air for the millionth time, watch them learn and develop so much in such a short time.
But for now it’s Friday and there are finals to ignore, water colors to mix, ink to spill and brushes to wet. And all of this needs to be accomplished before taking Brooke and Kelsea to Enoch’s for a celebratory graduation beer for Brooke. Man does she deserve it.
So if I don’t see you, good afternoon good evening and goodnight

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