I hadn’t talked to you much that day, and I won’t lie, I was a little worried. You had been sending me very troubling text messages about how you “couldn’t cope anymore”, and when I reminded you of all the beautiful things in the world, you said it still wasn’t enough to not make you want to die. Still, I sat and talked you through your episode. Because I love you and I’d done it many times before.
Time is strange. I’ve been gone from my dorm for three weeks because of winter break. As I write this, I’ve only been back for a few hours — and yet, it already feels like I never left.
2017 was a difficult year for most people, with tragedy sure to strike at any moment. At many times, it felt like the world was ending.
Christmas — the celebration of the birth of Christianity’s savior, Jesus Christ. Celebrated every Dec. 25 and preceded by a whole season of bright colored lights, upbeat music and time off of school and work.
I was walking back from the library late; it was well past midnight. I was listening to some unconventional Christmas music titled “O Magnum Mysterium.” It was a song I played in high school band. A rendition by the Nordic Chamber Choir echoed through my earbuds in the dead of night.
Between the times of 6:32 and 6:49 a.m. on Wednesday, President Donald Trump retweeted three videos depicting possible Muslim aggression. One of which involved the beatings and possible murders of two individuals.
On Monday Nov. 6, Ball State University with much fanfare introduced its new logo, “We Fly”. This new slogan raises many interesting questions: What is the value of a tagline? What was wrong with our "Education Redefined” tagline?
We found ourselves nestled into a Super 8 on the outskirts of Nashville, Tennessee next door to an all night jazz club that wasn’t going to stop playing music until 3 in the morning. This wasn’t how my mom and I expected to be spending Thanksgiving break together, but we were thankful for a place to sleep and time to spend together.
A turkey roasts in the oven while rolls cook to a golden brown below it. The house is warm from all the baking going on, and a sugar cookie candle burns on the corner table. I help myself to some finger foods -- a cheese cube and salami platter -- while grandma cooks the green beans on the stove across from me.
“God does not love you, God is madly in love with you.” These were the simple words that Father Anthony, a visiting priest, spoke to the congregation. He spoke of the sacrifice, of the suffering, that Christ endured for us, each and every one of us, each and every member of humanity.
As I sit here and eat my oatmeal, I scroll through my various forms of news websites that I follow. I’m scrolling through funny twitter posts and hysterical memes on Buzzfeed until I stumble across a photo of a child.
I’m about to hit you with cold, hard facts. Here are 10 reasons why we worship dogs.
I hate the number four. I have absolutely no reason to hate the number four, but the sound, the look and the way my fingers feel spelling out that dreaded number makes me cringe as if somebody put nails to a chalkboard. Seem odd? Maybe quirky? Crazy? It is.
When I walked into Sursa Hall this more than a week ago for a choir concert, I couldn't help but notice something seemed different.
I have taken three immersive learning classes so far during my time at Ball State. This number includes the two classes that I am currently in. If you don’t know what an immersive learning class is, it is blank.
The Lost Girls by Heather Young is the type of book where you tell yourself, "Oh, I'll go to bed after this, just one more chapter," and then you can't sleep because you can't stop thinking about it.
I pile as many dishes as I can on top of one another. My hands become covered with gravy, Frank’s Red Hot sauce and pancake syrup. I grab cups and coffee mugs that aren’t emptied yet and I feel apple juice, milk, and cold coffee on my fingertips.
Our nation is in trouble. Wildfires have ravaged our lands in the hills of California. Hurricanes have come knocking at our shores. Our capitol spins like a top every day as the investigation to possible Russian collusion continues. But here’s something that may surprise you; none of these are our nation’s most pressing issue.
I’m taking pictures of Homecoming on a Saturday morning, and I see these two grown women dressed up with a mustache and a sombrero. They are walking with a group of girls, possibly between the ages of 8 and 9. These little girls are wearing sombreros too.
The fence is 200 feet away, grass green and dirt a grayish brown from the rain that came down earlier. A man on a riding lawn mower does his work on the baseball field behind me. I’m sure he’s wondering what a girl is doing sitting in an empty dugout of a recreation softball field on a Monday afternoon.
