Someone sings opera in the shower stall.
SOMEONE SINGS OPERA IN THE SHOWER STALL.
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The sheer audacity of it, right? 3 AM, and the shared bathroom suddenly transforms into a Metropolitan Opera audition. You're trying to cram for that impossible Linear Algebra final, or perhaps finish that 20-page paper on existentialism, and then, *BAM!* A booming, albeit occasionally off-key, aria pierces the thin dorm walls. It's the quintessential sound of our collegiate experience – a symphony of the sublime and the utterly ridiculous.
It wasn't just the opera, was it? It was the midnight debates spilling from common rooms, the clatter of a late-night instant noodle chef, the furious typing of a friend pulling an all-nighter. Our dorms, those venerable, often drafty halls, were crucibles of intellectual ferment and, frankly, relentless noise. We learned to sleep through anything, or perhaps, more accurately, we learned to integrate it into our lives. These sounds, once sources of exasperation, now echo as cherished, almost mythical, memories. They're the soundtrack to formative years, reminders of the vibrant, sometimes chaotic, energy that fueled our ambitions and forged our deepest friendships. For those still navigating these hallowed halls, know that these quirky moments are becoming your own legends. For those of us who've graduated, they're the sweet, noisy hum of nostalgia.