A Note on Magic
The first tiny bit of a craving for freedom and independence came at the Charlotte airport this summer when I flew across the country to visit my best friend in Seattle. Standing there with only my backpack, purse, and camera, I was alone, far from home, and there was no one to guide me. The rush was overwhelming and I trembled not in fear but in ecstasy for a feeling that I could not describe. When I finally made it back home after a month away, I was disillusioned with home and restless to recapture that wild feeling but in coming to UNCA, the sensation has remained elusive; it’s not here.
18 October 2004
From a prompt on how college had changed me. I could find nothing at the time instead wrote of the magic of freedom.
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