297A — We gotta move on, and who's gonna notice we're gone?

A thought blurs past the not-quite-black screen of my closed eyes and I struggle to stop it, interrogate it, as the vortex draws me in. It says simply "I'm going home," and my mind fades back to black, as the stream of consciousness slips away into a a dark cavern, somewhere far below.

Today was a pretty good day. I had slight allergies that lead to me not being able to smell and hear high frequencies well, which was interesting enough. After some dragging my feet in the morning (I woke up early, but simply refused to get up), I mowed the lawn in the heat. The grass was tall, and this led to some struggles with our old push mower, but all of this is probably my own fault, as the amount of time I had waited to mow the lawn, both from a time-of-day perspective and a general perspective lead to these problems. Eventually, I finished the job, losing just under a pound's worth of sweat or so in the process, as well as a pretty heavy nosebleed which was a struggle. In any case, the job was eventually finished, and after lunch I played a bit of Minecraft to relax.

Eventually, we went on a little bit of a shopping trip to get gifts and snacks for our trip to China. We leave on Saturday, so tomorrow will be entirely packing, and then I won't be back for nine weeks, after which I'll be in town for just two weeks. Yikes. I went home for a little bit, before heading back out to robotics, where we spent an inordinate amount of time sorting out LEGO pieces for the FLL kids. We exited the lab proper around 9:20, and, this being my last robotics practice, I talked for a pretty long while with some of the few remaining kids. The goodbyes, the somewhat tepid, hesitant "see you later"s said without total confidence in its occurrence, all of it served to remind me that tomorrow is the last day I will be here as a home. I will have two weeks of stopping here in August, and then I will be spending the next semester and more in Boston. Wow. Perhaps it is selfish to consider one of the most important parts of this interaction that someone thinks it is sad I am leaving, or perhaps it is just another part of the "small, positive part of somebody else's story" philosophy. In any case, all I could think of as I got in my car was the finale of In the Heights, which provides today's title. This was apropos, as I had previously written my Presidential Scholars essay about a work that describes one's perspective on the world on In the Heights.

As I drove home from robotics today, there were tears welling in my eyes, and I don't know if they were from allergies or from the realization that perhaps tomorrow is the last day that Rapid City will truly be my home, and the last day that the robotics team will truly be my same team. I know I'll be back eventually—the two weeks after RSI, another few for winter break, perhaps even next summer and whatnot—but God will I miss this place. Part of me wanted to go up Skyline and see the whole city from above, but it was already 9:50, and I knew I needed to get home, so I stayed the course, driving up the highway, watching the forest go by and the lights of the city shimmer vaguely in the distance in the rearview mirror. In August, I'll be back, and I pray that I'll be able to go and see the city from above for one last time, and think on how the city looks—where it's come from, where it's going, and what it all means to me. It was not so long ago that leaving the city was nothing other than my greatest dream. Now, it feels like that dream is something long gone, too blindly focused on lack over presence. Goodbye, Rapid City—I'll be here for one more day, during which I'll be preparing to leave you. Saying goodbye means more than it ever should or could have before, but it means that my home is shifting, from here to Boston, where I'll spend my next four years and six weeks.

In spite of all this, in some sense, this summer is also going home. Going home to my cultural, ancestral homes in China. Going home to RSI, the place where I was most accepted. Going home to MIT, to Boston, where I will spend the next four years. I can only hope to be optimistic, and although I know stressful times are sure to come, the people I will spend them with, and the fun times we will have, should balance it all out. Maybe Rapid will be my home again one day. Maybe it won't. Today and tomorrow, however, is simply saying goodbye to one to find another.

Tomorrow, packing everything, from putting the finishing touches on (well, in) the big suitcase to packing my personal item and carry-on with various clothes and whatnot. Exciting times, and yet unexpectedly bittersweet.