Taylor Eidson

I am a great white shark.

A strong-willed, seemingly-evil, ginormous mess of an animal. With an affinity for the color sunset orange and ruling the world, I live for fleeting moments of happiness and search for my next existential crisis like an addict searches for their next moment of escape. I’m addicted to caring too much, and doing too little about it.

I’m a sponge.

An inanimate, seemingly-lively, collection of cells with one objective, not drying out until I have fulfilled my natural potential. I soak in as much as I can, waiting for it to fill my soul and spit it back out desperately missing the feeling of being full. I sit and wait for pleasure, for purpose. But I never seem to grasp either. How can I grasp anything with no arms.

I’m the little girl standing by the shoreline.

Amazed at the beauty of a vast and mysterious ocean. Recognizing that I may never fully understand what goes on beyond the ten feet my mother will let me swim, but knowing that my whole life will be about conserving the one thing that constantly occupies my thoughts.

I’m a marine ecology major.

Spending every waking moment fiercely striving to make my dreams come true. Soaking up information that fills me with excitement, my mind with wild expectations for the coming years. I’m still in some ways the little girl, amazed with my surroundings, swimming a few feet further each and every time my mom turns away.