Nobody tells you the truth. For some reason, no one does. If you are lucky, they omit, and that’s just as bad. First, their faces light up and their smiles broaden, and then they stare off into the distance as the memories come thick and fast. They almost always remember the parties first. The drinking, smoking and whatever else kids do to get high these days. Then they remember the sex, and the countless recollections of assorted party stories are instantly forgotten. And because sex is a subject so dear to the heart, they clap you on the shoulder, look around for a place to sit and immediately delve into the first sub topic; women.
Hours later, when they have finally grown weary of telling and re-telling that hilarious story of ‘Jackie with the big tits’ and the other one about the day they did bad things to two different women in one night, you politely remind them that what you actually asked was for them to tell you what campus life is like, and that while you are deeply impressed with Jackie, whatever she may or may not have on her chest is not really pertinent to the question. That’s when they turn hostile. Because the Jackie story has always been a big hit with audiences, and your apparent lack of enthusiasm is both disappointing and highly suspect. So you raise your hands, apologize and ask them if they would please tell u that uproarious story one more time. Please?
But at this point, they have realized that you are mocking them. They concluded a while back that you are one of the strange ones. They realize, with mounting disappointment, that when you asked about campus, you were actually asking about the other less interesting aspects of it. Studying, for instance. The thought is enough to make them gag. But since you asked, they have to answer you, at least to the extent of their knowledge. So they put a hand on a chin and think hard.
Eventually, they realize that the feeling they are experiencing is similar to that of being in an exam room with similarly frustrating questions, so they get up again and pretend to look at their watches. And since you are the epitome of brilliance, you understand that they have no idea why they went to campus, and you shake your head sadly as you realize they will end up either dead or playing host to the deadliest infections known to man sooner than later. They notice your sympathetic look, and in a fit of rage, they tell you that campus is a glorious place for those who understand that life is meant to be fun, and that they don’t expect you to understand. Then they steal another unseeing glance at their watch and walk away mumbling some incoherent nonsense about appointments.
That’s as far as you can possibly get. They all misunderstand your question. On the rare instances that they do tell you anything of value, they leave out the basics. No one tells you that campus is the harshest yet most ideal introduction into real life. No one takes the time to explain to you the delicate balance that exists between the realization that you are only young once and the need to take the best possible care of yourself. The older ones might tell you that it doesn’t matter how learned you are if you die young.
No one tells you that it’s not a place for the faint hearted either.
No one ever tells the truth.