Endpaper

Usually in this space (actually a space half this size) we let someone else express his or her feelings on a personal subject. Well, enough of that. It's our turn for shameless bodily display. Captured on these pages are our loves, our hopes, our dreams. Our day in the Yard searching for happiness. A year spent mostly at the Crimson, it's been found, can be permanently damaging--some might say mind-numbing. As soon as one issue is done and we hurtle out of the building on our bikes onto barren Mass Ave, we have to start thinking about the next week's mag. It's a killer cycle, which is why we deserve this space and have, for the past year, reserved it for a little self-indulgent rambling. But, we thought, why ramble with words, when pictures could do such a better job?