As this semester winds down to an overbearing halt of no-time deadlines, cram sessions and all-night papers written somewhere between nausea and delusion, college seems less like a hall of learning, and more like a prison.

When you add some fresh snow and freezing wind, it seems “that time keeps dragging on,” and because you’ve been locked in the basement of Founder’s Memorial Library, you “ain’t seen the sunshine” for a long time. The only promise that all students can hold on to is knowing that “they free” us “from this prison.” After that, I’m sure that “far from Folsom Prison” is where you’ll want to stay. However, the two situations aren’t the same.

Johnny Cash forever sings “Folsom Prison Blues” to lift the spirits of those trapped in spirit-crushing lifestyles, and that isn’t the same as being a student.

Still, when you loathe that end of the semester crunch work, remember you “had it comin’” and you “can’t be free.” When January comes around I’ll be back in class, “and that’s what tortures me.”

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