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The Breezeway: A Church

Florida Atlantic University’s Boca campus spans over 850 acres and is home to over 9,000 students. It is just as easy to get lost in, as it is to stand out and the main hub of campus is the breezeway. It’s at the center of a few academic buildings as well as restaurants, the book store, a barber shop, and residence halls.

Between my first and second classes on campus, I usually walk to the breezeway and get something to eat or drink. I like to sit towards the front, where hundreds of students come and go per day. There is sometimes music, but most of the time it is filled with lively conversations between friends or just pleasantries between classmates or acquaintances. The breezeway is a means to an end for most people, but like a church (or synagogue) to me.

When I find myself there, it’s usually when I have downtime. I sit outside, people watch, and eavesdrop on the people passing me by. I find it interesting what those around me tend to fill their lives with. Sometimes the filler is juicy and interesting, while sometimes it is just that: filler.

The girl with the long brown hair bats her eyes as the 18-going-on-22-year-old boy stretches his tattoo-clad arms. Four girls walk down the breezeway as if it is a catwalk and the designer is lululemon. That one boy on the electric skateboard zooms past the boy on his phone, who is checking the location of his Intro to Philosophy class for the tenth time.

The lives of these people consume me. The idea that we all exist simultaneously is enough to make me break a sweat. I think about how many thoughts must exist in the world with this many people.

When I first came to campus it was peak Covid. I would walk to the breezeway just to find myself being the only one there. I half expected a tumbleweed to pass me by on my way to my English class. There were not nearly as many students or patrons as there are now. Nowadays, the breezeway is so full even if it was completely silent, I believe I'd be able to hear everybody’s thoughts. “Wow, her outfit sucks.” “She could stand to lose some weight” “Who does she think she is walking around like that?”

But then I remind myself of the cruel yet comforting fact. I am a nobody. I am one in eight billion people. The red and blue hues of the breezeway and the nervousness that fills me walking past the organizations and fraternities is completely and totally irrelevant to the grand scheme of the universe. The Breezeway, the Boca campus, Florida, the United States, North America. The further and further we zoom out of our lives, it becomes more and more apparent how small of a corner of the world we occupy. When I sit on the breezeway, it is my world, but the second I step out, it could seize to exist and I would never know the difference.




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