Two documents have emerged related to the increasing call for the divestment of Boston College’s endowment from the fossil fuel industry in the past two weeks.
What is it about being in love that makes us think in poetry? That makes us want to sing songs and dance and jump off of rooftops, grow wings, and fly to the stars? That burns holes in our hearts while simultaneously making them feel fuller and brighter? That transforms all of our rational thoughts into mush and makes us want to say “forever” over and over again like a lyric stuck repeating on a broken CD? That turns menial activities like doing homework, going to CVS, and walking to class together into grand adventures? That makes us literally feel colors when our loved one is in the same room as us? I don’t know, but it sure is weird sometimes. So, I’d like to talk about it.
“My name is Alexia LaFata, and I have been using for nine years” is something I imagine I’d say if I were to enroll in a rehab-esque group for people addicted to social media. And when I say “using,” I mean I have been instant messaging and social networking since I was nine years old.