Charles and my predawn jog was a sweat-athon and as the sun rose, a heat-dome brightness tattooed crisp shadows in every corner. Any lingering coolness was burned off - evaporated.

It was 94°f, 3 hours later, when I walked to campus - why don’t we use  parasols anymore? Drag on, radiant afternoon heat, please.
That was 100 proof sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.

Hot days seem to drag-on slowly, like waiting for a microwave or a droning, liturgy. It wasn’t in the forecast but I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear, “Today’s forecast is slow, really slow.”

Let’s start an Internet theory that the atmosphere is thinning or we’re just ants under a magnifying glass.

The finally setting sun left a blood red line under the falling blue dark, like a **** of wound in the skin of young-night.

Once my nightly obligations are done (classes, homework, reading), the silence can seem oppressive. I’m used to the never ending hustle, boiling drama and noise of seven suitemates - so there’s that.

On now empty nights, I’m tortured by the high-beating pulse of youth, and I pace my empty apartment, like someone restlessly waiting for their venti-mocha-latte at a Starbucks.

Can anyone suffer like a young woman left all alone?
Why, oh whomever, must I sip from this deep, bitter, undrinkably salty sea of solitude?

In this, my prime season, why do I only manage to exist?
My needs are in a shameful state of decay.
.
.
Cruel Summer by Bananarama
Habits (feat. Haley Reinhart) by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox [E]
All That I Need by Ebony Loren, Matthew Ifield & Sebastian Kamae

love doesn't dash, it loiters
with repeated movements like music
and beautifully crude endearments

love doesn't dash, it lingers
with rhythms like dance
and boastfully rude aphorisms

so dally with me, my love
lollygag, lounge and in a while
we'll share breaths and mess about

Ok, I'm not paid to think (like the TV shouting heads), I have no real voice (vote), and certainly no credentials - but I'm as invested in America as any high-school citizen can be - I've pledged allegiance 3000 times (hhmmm.. do they doubt our loyalty?) and when it comes to loving America I'd have to say my classmates and I are at the center of the spell.

I'm afraid we're growing up in the age of hate.. the age of phony outrage where each position large or small is high noon and violence is underfoot even when policing ordinary citizens.

We won't address the multitude of old problems in this new age.. we'll just unleash a marquetry of half truths to dispute the proven until unreasoned arguments reach their paranoid fullness. The real world is alarming enough - lets just push that away and ignore it - while we're at it lets **** shame the poor, the old, the sick, the unemployed, the hungry and the hand of mercy.

I realize America was never one moral atom bonded for better.. but those anvils that forged us appear neglected or forsaken. I'm afraid what's happening now, what we're seeing and hearing now, is a symphony of erosion - that by the time I have any say at all, the middle class will be gone - America turned slum - where even the voice of despair will be turned traitor.

We'll only be able to see our greatness in museum souvenir shops where nothing is affordable and everything is made elsewhere.

As a teenager, I can sometimes be frantic,
unfocused, stressed and anxious.
Luckily, I was introduced to meditation.
I love meditation and the way it makes me feel - solid.

So, how does it work?
First I set a 15 minute timer and get
prepared to look a little foolish.
I sit somewhere comfortable, cross-legged.
I close my eyes and focus on a point
in the center of my forehead
between my eyes, relax my mind,
and think only of the sound of OM.
When your mind wanders, just go back to OM.
Existing in that territory of nothing
there is a silence that must be listened to.
You end up giving sharp attention to nothing.
It is simple, compelling and satisfying.
When you’re done, a new stillness will remain in your mind.

Death's at our door, it's right there on our Ring.
I told it we're busy but it's patient - I think.
Death's at our door and - yep - it looks - viral.
But if you listen closely it's singing a carol.
"come out and play - it's a beautiful day"
"you can hide from the virus like a rat in a cave"
"but you'll just end up dying - some OTHER way."
The tune has such rhythm, the voice has such charm.
The pull is profound, my fears are transformed.
Death offers a beginning, not just an end.
and the offer's delivered with a wink and a grin.
Death looks like cross between an angel and a prince.
Death seems kind of funny. Mom! Should I let it in‽

I have to say, this isolation doesn't appear to be affecting me at all.

I was thinking... The wind must come from somewhere.

Do the trees make the wind with their ceaseless moving around?

“KKKeeeeepp STILL!!” I shriek at the trees from my bedroom window but they pretend not to hear. Science says trees can talk to each other over some secret, underground, filament-like network - so I know the ba$tards are listening.

And I don’t know about this new generation of birds - these tearless, happy birds that chirp just to be fashionable. They annoy me when they pretend to be unaware of the value of silence.

“Shut UP!” I scream at a speckled bird who stares down at me like I’m insignificant.

“Yeah, the woolly mammoths ignored us too,” I remind it.

I give it the two-fingered, back and forth “Yeah, I’m watching you” gesture.

Then it just chirps right past me, as if I don't exist. Aaarrrgghhh!

So I give that bird the bird.

On the far edge of the world there are
fanatics of many minds and religions.
They have uninteresting histories,
jejune existences, and distorted ideas of nature.

Some are belligerent, felony-friendly foreigners.
I’ve never given them a single thought,
because they're nothing to me.

They’re insignificant—living curiosities
and I grant them no more sympathy
than I would a flock of wild birds.

Of course, I’d never wish to harm wild birds
unless they had the wherewithal to attack me,
in inimitable, Hitchcock style.
.
.
Songs for this:
Kashmir by  by Toni Jevicky
broken people by narcissists cookbook
Bring Me to Silence (Audiotree Live) by Fievel Is Glauque

Oh, absent one, I miss you.
Darling, an empty place awaits you.
Thrushes chirp their dissatisfaction in
the garden as I doze with boredom.
I send my well wishes from a distance.

Oh, absent one, my digital ghost.
You're here when I call but not here.
I brush my hair with discontent, I
eat bitter, lonely meals to stay alive.
I send my love from a distance.

Parents, the keepers of the door to this amazing universe..

To them I am a fragile sapling, staked for its own good. Protected from sweet kisses, funny and salty, somber and delicious.

Parents, those figures of authority - from whom our true lives are kept.

Protect me from scars no deeper than a blush, from rustles on a soft battlefield, caressed curves, tousled hair and appetitive breaths of each others air.

Parents, who guard against loves bombardment, the persistent courtship. Giving ground in slow but immense movement, like those of continental plates.

Parents, whose power will fade with no more cause than time, gentle as mist, as powerful as a waterfall.

Summer’s almost over - that convalescent state
where successive modes of pleasure
were the order of the day.
Now fall commands awakening -
drive simplicity away! The hounds
of hell are yelping that it’s time to banish play.
They cry “forget unscheduled hours
that owned no share of care - the virtual halls
are waiting and we’ll soon see you there.”
No apotropaic magic can delay my slated fate -
to the pixelated halls of learning, I must soon acclimate.

I'm different, in
private dreams, where there are no
ramifications.

I'm more - adult? I
handle things decisively
- no second guessing.

And I KNOW what I
want - is that because it's all
erased on waking?

Do we practice life,
in our restless dreams - trying
on other selves?

We’re frantically typing to finish our assignments
and end our Friday night homework confinement.
Chella wants to go to a frat-house soirée
I went to a few of those, back in the day.

No more frat parties, I once emphatically said.
I make rules for myself, usually based on emotion
but once I calm down, rules are made to be broken,
and, it’s good, I suppose, to stay in touch with the kids

Chella does this a lot, finds a hot trendy spot,
and drags me along, enthusiastically or not.
She’ll attempt, and fail, to do a Keg stand.
That’s ok, we’re not athletes, I understand.

We’re just having fun with it, hitting a beat good,
fugitives from the rough passage to adulthood
We feel like old ladies now - it's hilarious.
.
.
Mini playlist for this:
Pon de Replay by Rihanna
Little Things x Gypsy Woman (L BEATS MASHUP) by Jorja Smith
Can't Feel My Face by The Weeknd
Summertime by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince
More Than A Woman (SG's Paradise Edit) by Bee Gees & SG Lewis

(2 Senryu Poems)

A boy will make you
think he’s in love with you
When he really isn’t.

A girl will make you
think that she doesn't love you
when she really does.

Where are the clouds going
in their hurry between heaven and earth?
Why do clouds cry?
Intangible mountains in the sky...
wait - that one’s a bunny!

These Senryu poems
are random thoughts - not every
moment's critical  =]

It’s important for
teenagers to have free
time to not think.

Never toss anything
to me you don’t want to
see land on the floor.

Heart attack: When I
see my phone battery at 5%
- stay with me buddy!!

If this viral world
is the new normal, I want
sweet abnormality.

The tiger languidly paces its enclosure
Its genetic memory of the hunt intact.
A movement catches its eye and its heart quickens.
The instinct to hunt, catch and eat
- to savor the delicious, warm meat and thick,
salty blood - stirs with intuition's reflex.
It freezes, licks its lips and crouches,
alert to possible prey.

Where are your rights, oh modern American?
With your family eating popcorn - behind glass.
Surely you are lessened by protection
and insulted by cool safety.
Climb the fence, ignore liberal warnings
and the alarmed cries of lesser men.
Stare down the now crouching cat
- ears back and cautiously approaching
in bent, alert stalk.
Claim your right to be free!!
Taste pure freedom.

I’ve memories saved for future use
they’re gathering like a storm,
and they’re all mine - fruit on the vine,
I’m prone to dreams and poems.

The day is new and not yet lost to summer heat.
Flowers blush and preen in morning breezes.
Let me whisper fears before the day consumes you
My fickle friend, another shadows your affections
Distracted lover another twirls for your attention
I'm losing confidence, and I think I'm losing you.
In the remaining shadows, leaves still brandish dew

O! This eternal, infernal lockdown
I want to strike out, in ill-natured rebellion,
but all I can do is grip at shapeless hope.

I’m free to dream, of course, and I dream
my fill - I’ve become a dreamaholic.

My omnifarious dreams are deliberate,
whimsical, vengeful, hopeful - they even
tiptoe love's ******, cutting edge but reality
soon returns - stealthy as a parent -
to induce dark, ordered boredom.

(This is not scary, short fiction and probably not fit for click-farming.)

Sometimes I’m serious, a girl can be serious. I have to write a lot of analysis papers in school (yeah, some people still waste their time and money like that). I’m leveraging that effort here. This is part* of an academic paper I’m writing on the world economy in crisis (this part covers world inflation and China/Taiwan). It’s a draft in progress and, in the spirit of brevity (my target ~1000 words) and avoiding the verbose, I’ve simplified the narratives and removed graphs, diagrams and footnotes. Here we go:

Have you noticed that the world seems less stable and that your spending power has eroded since 2009 and especially since covid? You aren’t wrong.

The Fed balance sheet had never been over a trillion dollars before 2009. However, from 2009 (the banking collapse) to 2022 (COVID) the Fed moved our balance sheet from sub-1 trillion to 9 trillion - pushing about 50% dollar inflation on the world. We ourselves experienced 8% inflation.

Everything in the world is priced in dollars. If you look at cross-world currency settlements, you might think, ‘well,  there's the dollar and the euro, the pound, the dirham and all these other currencies’ but there’s really not. There's only the dollar and the other currencies back-solve for how they pay for things in their own countries. That's the way the world works. So when we push 50% inflation (in dollar terms) to the world it affects everyone. Marginal currencies on the bottom of the financial structure collapsed. That would be Turkey, Iran (Iran controls Iraq now), Pakistan, Lebanon, and many many other currencies throughout the third world that hyper-inflated (became worthless).  

So when people say, “can we all just all calm down and go back to business as usual?” There is no easy way to go back to 2% world growth and stability. Inflation is an insidious, destabilizing force. Even China’s economy is in deep, deep trouble - they’re in the midst of a real estate crisis, a banking crisis, a youth unemployment crisis, a trade surplus decline (because of their threat to invade Taiwan), a debt to GDP crisis (much worse than ours) and now, Trump is threatening tariffs that could bring their net income to zero.

China has said many many times - too many times to doubt it - that they will attack and absorb Taiwan by 2027 - period.
Why would they do that? Aren’t our economies too linked? Knowing we will have to retaliate? We don't know what President XI Jinping’s calculus is. The CCP doesn't see the world the same way we do and, like Putin, we may not be dealing with someone rational. It’s like when Putin moved his blood banks, tankers, air force and army to the edge of Ukraine - some said it was just ‘saber rattling.’ No, when the blood banks and tankers are moved - you’re a ‘GO’ - it’s just a matter of time.

Neville Chamberlain, the British Prime Minister now vilified for appeasing ******, wasn’t an idiot. He could not get his head around why ****** would plunge the world into war. They had lived through WWI and where was the profit in it - what reasonable reason was there for a world war in 1938? Let’s not make that mistake. Let’s take a moment and think it through.

Why is China obsessed with unifying with Taiwan? (1) History,  the Chinese, who lost the revolution that brought the CCP to power fled to Taiwan (2) The democratic government in Taiwan is four times as successful as communist counterpart. Their GDP is higher, their worker productivity is four times higher, they enjoy a higher standard of living, (3) they are a success story that demonstrates what China could be if it weren't hamstrung with the communist party. (4) they want to deny us the tech, (5) Their culture and world view is different. In China there are no human rights and no truly private property. There is only what’s good for (Chinese Communist Party) CCP power - the CCP is everything.

Why protect Taiwan? Taiwan Semi is the chip manufacturer for the world. They are the only maker of 2mn chips - the most vital, powerful component for the AI and quantum computing races. The country that wins those races will control information for the next century. The loss of that capacity is an absolute, existential threat to the security of the United States. The fact that the US failed to keep current in this area is a major *****-up decades in the making.

Messages of deterrence are flying. One reason we bombed Iran - where we had to drop munitions, with precision down three tiny shafts, covered by a mountain, from whatever heights - and we did it - was a message of deterrence partially aimed at China. Proof that America still has the best and most lethal military in the world - and we aren't afraid to use it. The US admiral who commands our indo-pacific forces recently said - publicly - that “if China thinks they're going to either blockade or engage in some kinetic conflict with Taiwan, we will turn the Taiwan strait into a hellscape.” Even a limited naval engagement with China, in the Taiwan strait, could cost thousands of American casualties (think Korean War people).

What kind of leverage does China have VS the us? Recently:
China has stopped supplying the US with rare earth magnets - those are critical to making EV vehicles run.
China is denying America processed synthetic graphite - a critical component in every single EV battery.
China is withholding the lasers used in fiber-optic communications from the US (they are the single world manufacturer).
Those are single points of failure for US technologies and we must ‘Manhattan Project’ our capacity for their replacement.

Why did the Trump administration remove subsidies for EV vehicles? First, it plays to his base but secondly, removing the subsidies slows demand until we can fill those gaps ourselves. Part of the ‘Big Beautiful Bill’ earmarks billions to start addressing the failure points mentioned above.

What non-military leverage do we have VS the Chinese?
We hold the upper hand. China imports 13 million barrels of oil every day,  9 Bs of natural gas every day, 40% of their food every single day.and they need access to the American dollar system to acquire those goods. They are a closed capital account - no one will accept Yuan as payment. That is a single point of failure for them.

Conclusions: We should let the CCP know - make it very clear - that if they attack Taiwan, the first thing we’ll do is take them out of the dollar system. Pushing that button would be easy - but it will hurt us too in the short run. It may be a better deterrent than those US carrier strike forces - which are still an option if it comes to that.
.
.
Songs for this:
Canary In a Coalmine by The Police
Invisible Sun by The Police

I'm one of you - the tribe of the lonely - forgetting ourselves in monotony.
Our shelter world is a shifted reflection of reality - we are frozen in time.
I wait, set aside, like a marble girl carved by the chisel’s kiss
but I'm real and full of desires that are ready to be used again.
I'm eager to engage should we escape this fist-like viral grip.
I want to live a life - I want memories to name.
I'm seemingly safe - but the cost is paradise.

The home where Chella grew up, in the ghetto of Liberty City Florida, had beige carpets so old that pieces of the tuft and twirl would come out of the backing under-foot.
The  apartment window shades were white floral plastic rectangles cut from an old shower curtain.
She shared a bedroom with two younger siblings and the overhead lights were naked light bulbs.

she grew up in the a noisome ghetto of Liberty City Florida
she never knew her dad
she won’t talk about her mom
she hated the flaw of things
nothing worked, not the dishwasher
or the air conditioner they couldn't afford to run.
There was no wi-fi for the no computer
Her mother worked two or sometimes three part-time jobs
They added rice to hamburger-helper to stretch it.
Maybe you got a pair of shoes for Christmas and chicken, not turkey.
They were poor, used clothes poor, food assistance poor, third world poor.
She got a used bike once, for Christmas. It was stolen.
At 14, she babysat for months to get a Rihanna mini-backpack.
It was stolen.
But they lived 2.5 miles from the beach.
It was a 53 minute walk. She couldn't afford the bus.
She knew not to hitchhike.
She kept a knife in her right front jeans pocket.
She studied at school or at the beach
She practically lived at the beach
Her wardrobe was a one-piece swimsuit under cut-off jean-shorts and flip flops.
What friends she had were at the beach.

A wino, who couldn't really talk, looked out for her at the beach because she once gave him a dollar.
One night he pulled a knife on a **** who was bothering her. The police came and took his knife.
“I’m SO sorry,” she told him, “I’ll get you another one,” but he mumbled in his incomprehensible way, and waving the idea off, he shuffled over to a garbage can, and leaned it up to reveal eight other knives under it.

We were looking at some of our high school pictures together and we realized that my designer, high-school freshman prom-dress that I bought with my allowance ($6,000, on sale, with no fitting) cost more than her mom’s car.
.
.
A mini playlist for this:
Baxter (These Are My Friends) by Fred again.. & Baxter Dury
Runaway by Slick Rick
Redemption Song by Mitchell Brunings
Breakout by Swing Out Sister
.
.
Our cast:
Chella - A tall, lithe black girl, from Liberty City (Miami) Florida with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs’ from Yale University who is currently a Harvard Master's candidate.  She had it rough growing up - she was buying skin-care at Trader Joes! I'm showing her some things.
Your author, a simple trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia with a Bachelor of Science in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry from Yale, currently a Harvard Master's candidate.

When I’m not tapped into a music stream.

I like quiet
no - let’s be exact,
I like silence
ear plugs in - deafening quiet
or better yet, noise cancelled anti-sound
That’s relatively new technology
My mom mentioned new studies suggest it may rewire things
gray matter wise, you know, behind the eyes
like the patterns sound forms in sand.

But if you’re going to scramble my mind
your going to have to wait in line behind
bland 21-year-old issues like:
sleep deprivation
hormonal fluctuations
romantic fog
case study competitions
business model design games (REALGAME)
deductive logic puzzles
irritability and mood swings
mental bandwidth anxiety
cognitive confusion
information overload
assignment stress
premenstrual syndrome
compulsive coping mechanisms
career anxiety
****** frustration
multitasking shifts (schedule)
canon events (existential dilemmas)
culture shock (new environment)
feeling “scrambled”
family pressures

So, yeah. let’s fn Jettison headphone worries - MOM - shall we??!
.
.
Right Now by The Creatures
A Girl In Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) by Romeo Void
Your Turn to Run by Malaria!

A crush is someone
you're strongly attracted to
- they just don't know it.

He doesn't know you: check.
you like him: check, he does nothing:
check, you fall for him.

I lie in bed and
envision scenarios where
my crush grins at me.

It's so weird that
we can almost stalk someone
and they have no idea.

I'm trying to get hair
out of my mouth and I find
my crush is watching.

What a lonely, peculiar, eccentric figure i must be. A girl, in a garden, crying at an iPad, in the dark.

Earlier, at school...

It was a clear spelling out, like steel cuts thru fruit.

As he spoke he looked down and away, his gorgeous face blank and indifferent, as if I were wasting his time or he was talking to a child needing an obvious truth taught quickly.

When he finally looked back at me, I saw no pity in his impersonal, hazel eyes.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I needed time to contemplate the universe's new laws.

Can a girl just suddenly die of heart-ache?? because I was sure my heart had stopped, locked and frozen.

Finally, I gasped in this impossible new air - the force of it made me hold the cold-iron stair railing - the game is rough.

He's so... male - all chase and careless passion - intelligent teaser, a skilled steersman of excited climates... Oh, you simply have no idea.

And now he was, gone, still there, but gone to me - as if he'd transformed into a hologram or had begun to orbit some other sun, he just...

"You made me feel special." I said.

I had lost my balance on this faithless and unequal world, where heaven so cruelly punishes desires.

"You made me feel I mattered, such a favor." I said, absentmindedly, as I turned, and went back up the three steps into school.

I don't think I looked back at him as the door closed. After all, he wasn't there any more.

I think he called my name, like a question...

It’s in quiet
moments of thought that we create
our identities.

I put my hands on the table after you..
I drink from your half-empty glass..
I sit in your still-warm chair.
I signal you but I am a candle at noon..
I call you but I am a snowflake at sea..
Please don't go anywhere without me..
I long to be your shadow.
I want to taste you like food..
A hundred emotions tangled like hair ..and trivial words..

What I want is someone to love,
and for someone to somehow love me.
Not right now and not tomorrow...
but some day - eventually.
I’m still a child, those mysteries are vague,
but I pray it will happen - breathlessly.

I shed tears over you
for a second or two
but still FAR too long.

I'm glad we're through
I was stuck with you -
like gum on my shoe.

Another night of drama got to me,

I'm not made of stone.
But please don't text or phone.
I'm much better alone.

These are some
Senryu poems about friendships.
Who knows us better?

Friends are family
by invitation - accepted
gifts to each other.

We don't care what
your specific gender is
we're calling you dude.

I love to hang out
with people who make me forget
to check on my phone.

We all have a friend  
who thinks of everything
in a ***** way.

It’s a little complicated - what isn’t? But my plans have changed (again).
Under some pressure - but not really - I was able to switch schools.
From Johns Hopkins university to the Université Paris Cité.
No doubt, the Hopkins acceptance helped.
It’s like when you have a boyfriend - how the other boys suddenly find you more attractive?

There was a comment someone made here, SbySW, I think - he said,
“No more early jogs in Baltimore,” (as in danger-city) and that was a tumbler for me - I started checking and, yeah, Baltimore is very.. Baltimore-ish. Then my little mind started grinding.

‘If I’m already switching schools and since Peter (my bf) is still ‘stuck’ in Geneva.. Isn’t Paris closer?
TRIGGER WARNING  
So, here’s where the 'nepo baby' magic happens.
I called my Grandmère. ring.ring
“Umm, I’m thinking the Université Paris Cité might be better than Baltimore.. Is that CrAzY?”
After a moment's silence, Grandmère said,
“Can you forward me your Hopkins acceptance letter?”

And thirty minutes later (9pm Paris time, mind you), I got a call from Université Paris Cité admissions. I’m in. The program starts September 1st.
Then François, one of my Grandmère’s corporate minions called and said:
"Johns Hopkins appreciated the quick notice.
The movers will be there, for you and Charles @ 9am tomorrow morning.
Your flight (to Paris) leaves @ 9:22pm tomorrow night..
Your TSA PreChecks, and Global Entry passes are complete.
I mailed you your flight passes and "Imagine'R" (unlimited Paris travel) cards. A car will be waiting when you arrive.”
François doesn't mess around.

I looked at my watch, it was 2:45 in the afternoon.
****, I need to tell Charles we're moving to Paris tomorrow.

Yes, I exist in a charmed circle - if you discount the contentiousness of the choice - my Mom’s now mad at me and my sister’s not too happy 
- I’m totes charmed.
Of course, the Hopkins acceptance (and the full-ride scholarship I declined) will now pass on to another lucky student.

Sometimes what you want
is lurking in the shadows
just out of reach - do you dare disclose it -
risk exposing it, when some might oppose it?

The bible says “Ask and you shall receive.”
In real life, that may require more than belief,
if your secret wishes, you are to achieve.
.
.
Songs for this:
Give Paris One More Chance by Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers
The Paris Match (feat. Tracey Thorn) by The Style Council
Nostalgie Du Voyage by Tape Five

I snuck into the party with a ID hastily made
and stumbled, out of step, into the poetry parade.

In this beautiful country club, I'm surrounded by my betters.
I wave my kindergarten rhymes to show the men of letters.

In the echo of the learned men who came this way before me
I hear the patterned minuets, that if followed, lead to glory.

I chafe in those traveled ruts and I long for something varied
I hope to spark a unique verse, between school and the cemetery.