The necessity of music as an emotional outlet is indisputable in my opinion, but it typically serves as background noise to the ever-moving world around us. Concerts provide a brief interlude from the onslaught of life’s stressors, allowing us to live life in a pure state of awe and uninterrupted emotion.
As a new columnist for The Heights, I am grappling with how I can share my opinions while avoiding a collision course. What can I say that is useful? What can I say that is not divisive but productive?
After two years of existing as a clueless underclassman who can’t tell Stokes North from Stokes South, upperclassman-ship is finally upon me. The glitz and glamor of being a junior is nice, but nobody talks about the instantaneous rush of stress that comes with planning life after college.
Almost every day of the week, I wake up with a song in my head. Nothing prompts this phenomenon—it just happens, and it paints a picture of how my day will likely pan out.
The other day, my friends and I brainstormed the next big thing. The next Sillybandz, the next Fruit Ninja, the next hoverboard or Flappy Bird or air fryer. To no one’s surprise, though, we couldn’t think of anything. “Everything already exists,” we said.
One fascinating phenomenon that stems from TikTok is the creation of unique slang and jargon. And this lexicon, born of catchy trends and memes, has woven itself into the fabric of day-to-day conversation.
If you have ever had the luxury of living in a questionably up-to-code off-campus house surrounding Boston College, you have probably experienced the joy of dealing with rats.
I fundamentally disagree with the idea of “finding” happiness. I believe you should make your own happiness, no matter where you are.
Growing up as an only child, I was constantly asked, “Do you like it?”—almost always with a dismissive tone, as if it were impossible that I could enjoy being the only child in my family.
For as long as I can remember, the value of kindness has been emphasized in nearly every aspect of my life. “Be kind to others” was scribbled at the top of the easel papers that served as elementary school classroom constitutions.
