This morning, English major Jared Buckley strode out into the field of daisies near his home, arms outstretched, with a carefree smile on his face and not a worry in his mind. Armed with a backpack full of poetry to make him seem sensitive and refined in case there were any girls around, he felt nothing but a tingling appreciation of the sublime grandeur of the natural world.
“Ahh yes!” he said, stopping to smell a flower, the pollen tickling his delighted little nose.
“This is the life. Truly nothing could dampen my spirits on so lovely a morning.”
Buckley struck a dramatic pose on a nearby tree stump, surveying the rolling plains of delicate flowers budding shyly.
“I feel bad for you city folk. Basically enslaved to your iPhones and laptops, unable to appreciate the wondrous beauty of the world around you,” said Jared, who had spent the first four hours of the day playing PS3 in his underwear and had only glanced through the first few pages of “Walden” prior to leaving for his 3 p.m. class. “Luckily I was born with an inherent appreciation of nature. I’m not like everyone else.”
Buckley lamented the challenge of being such a unique and sensitive individual in a world of brutes.
“Ah!” he said, in a sudden fit of melancholy. “‘Tis so difficult to be born an old soul in this cold, impersonal modern world.”
Stopping in the middle of his transcendental musing, Buckley took a deep breath of crisp spring air.
“Jesus, is that dog shit?” he said.
At press time, Buckley was trying to play it off in his English Authors class like he hadn’t obviously stepped in dog shit on the way.