Darkness. All I see is darkness.
Surprise, bitches! You found me! It’s me, Not-So-Silent Sam, your favorite armed Confederate (although I’ve heard Lance Spivey has been ~gunning~ for that spot since I left).
I’m finally breaking my silence, because I’m PISSED. Imagine living somewhere for over 100 years and suddenly being ripped away from your home. No one else in this country has suffered such unjust treatment before, EVER!
So what if I’m racist and unpatriotic? It’s called history, people. Deal with it. I mean, come on. Some of y’all are living under a rock. But I’m LITERALLY living under a tarp — check your privilege.
I’ve had a lot of free time under this tarp, so I’ve been catching up on all the latest movies. I really like those Marvel films. Well, except for Black Panther.
After the infamous Toppling Incident of 2018, the Board of Governors told me they would bring me back soon. In fact, I was promised my very own $5.3 million mausoleum. But it’s been over a year, and I’m still here.
Wait, have I been ghosted? I don’t know what to do. Should I text them? Or would that seem too clingy?
I miss McCorkle Place. It was my very own gated community, if you will. I miss the constant companionship of UNC Police, who were always there, day or night, to protect me. I even miss the unfortunate sight of Time Out’s heinous neon sign in the wee hours of the morning.
I know my presence on campus has been missed. Maybe not by the students, faculty, staff or community, but what are those people who drive in from Alamance County supposed to do now that I’m gone? Move on from a 150-year-old war?