Being a senior is like standing at the edge of a fireplace while the flames lick heatedly towards the ends of your fingertips and smoke places a haze over your eyes. There is an overwhelming lust for success, a fire some say, lingering in the air around each of our ambition filled heads. Each senior is blessed with a strict focus. Said focus follows a short distance to an individual’s horizon. Graduation Day. Now, when you ask us about our senior year, we will swear up and down that there isn’t a group more ready than us. One among us may even claim to be the next president, Beethoven, or even pope. But, truth be told, we are all scared children frantically praying that the smoke is soon removed from our eyes. These flames licking at our fingertips are the branches of overwhelming adulthood that, at some point, we all reach for. Despite the danger, we crave their independent, not to mention lonely, sacrificial ways. We are foolish. This is meant to be a time of final learning before we make our departure. To tell you the truth, we graduate almost as ignorant as we started. The ways of the world are just as foreign to us as a faraway language. Being a senior, it ends with a leap of faith into a huge pit of fire. On the way down, you and everyone around you, fights tooth and nail for an extinguisher. Being a senior is traumatizing, entitling, hectic, exciting, and most of all, a new beginning. Being a senior is, well, it’s being born again. This is a fresh start.