You have no worries yet, they've only just begun.
I know you're scared, worried, anxious.
But I promise you'll be fine.
Yes its bad as they say
High schoolers do ****.
But they have to grow up one day.
Keep your chin up.
Don't be shy.
Stand tall, take pride.
Do an after school activity
Join a club, go to games
Make friends you'll spend life with.
Trust me, it pays.
Don't pretend to be something you aren't
Never stop learning
Do your work, but don't let it consume you.
Ask. For. Help.
They want you to pass.
I'm proud of you.
Don't do drugs, or alcohol.
Seniors don't want to be friends with you, and avoid dating people older than you in highschool.
Don't have ***. Trust me.
Study hard but don't over work.
You may have been cool, but no one likes someone that's rude and cool people are only cool in highschool. Better to be nice.
Money isn't a problem for now, get that job junior year.
Take advantage of extra credit.
Have fun with your first year.
Drama isn't cool or cute, stay out of it.
Don't bother with lockers, just keep a book bag.
Take notes.
Stay away from fights.
You won't be stuck forever.
People will make fun of you because your younger, but ignore them. They were young once too.
Write future you letters, they'll be cringe and funny to laugh at later :)
Most importantly, your grades do matter, but so does your mental health.
Its OK to take breaks and ask for help.
Stay safe freshies.

Yale’s friday “spring fling” was a soggy success - both as a concert and super spreader event. My groove-spirit was dampened by weather and a final I had the next morning.

I pose here tonight, in the chill residential courtyard, on my green sport-brella beach chair, like Canova’s Pauline Borghese, relaxed, canned *****-martini in hand, still untouched by the covid menace - as if I’d taken sagacious care in avoiding it.

The waxing crescent moon is strutting its familiar runway, like a vague, ambient night-light, but what should we expect for free? Maybe it’s saving itself for warm, clear summer skies.

I can relax tonight and binge on the moon because the school year is over (for me).

I’d been in a coffee-fueled study-trench for over a week, finishing my last assignment paper with my last gasp of academic energy. It illustrated what could be crafted in a vacuum void of originality. I filled it with ideas, gathered like runoff-water, from deeper sources and tailored the paragraphs with care, weaving by sleight, the 3D illusions of depth, breadth and substance. It was very well received. taking a bow

I love the feeling of being done with finals but still living on campus. It’s casual, adult and relaxed - close to life as I dreamed it as a kid.

My room is disassembled and I’m living out of my suitcase. Movers will come and cart off our stuff Monday. Leong and I will head south - like wrong way birds. I hate goodbyes but knowing these are temporary helps. Most of my summer will be like one continuous sleepover.

Happy Mother's Day!

In hot August I’ll make my departure,
the trembling freshman imposter,
to dance with unknown partners,
in our quests to join the rosters
of future scholars and doctors.

Like Columbus I’ll journey not knowing
exactly where I am going -
and like our brave-foolish captain I’m hoping
that the planned years of furious rowing,
will deliver me to where (I think) I am going.

You know that feeling
When everything around you
Is just spinning,
Pounding,
Bringing total chaos?

But somehow you feel nothing at all.
Not scared about being shot at.
Not being scared that a car is about to hit you.
Not being scared that the freshman that you just shoved out of your way will come and hurt you.

You just stand there,
Watching the bullets fly at you.
Watching the headlights on the car come straight at you.
Walking away but turning around to make sure he isn't running after you.
Just waiting to see what will happen next.

That feeling you have when all that chaos is happening,
That my friend is called calm.

I survived my freshman year
I'm now a sophomore
But I want the school year to be here
I miss school
I have 82 days left of hell

~6/14/18

As a mere freshman in high school
I was cursed with the miracle of life
Or an angel of death
That was wrapped in a pink blanket.
She was mine
After nine months of developing
She was here
But on unwelcomed sircumstances
****
An unwanted word
That's the way she came
When I was a mere freshman in high school.
Lucelia Marie
As I decided to name her
Was small and fragile
Something I couldn't take care of
As a mere freshamn in high school
Adoption, they called it
For the best, they told me
As a mere freshman in high school
So now she is four months old
With the woman she will know as 'Mom'
Not me...But a stranger
That picked her up in the night
When I was a mere freshman in high school

So my little girl is gone...
For four months ago today.
I will miss her always
Even as a mere freshman in high school
The pain of a last kiss

so as of next week i will be starting my first year of college in a town too far away to come home for an evening and people keep telling me about the “freshman fifteen,” its inevitability, like i dont know how to live alone and the response to that is somehow gluttony. i dont think people realize how good i am at not eating. my digestive system still hasnt forgiven me for when i was sixteen and liked the taste of anorexia. no one ever talks about the fact that apparently part of recovery is running to the bathroom twenty minutes after every meal and having to stay there for twenty minutes after every meal because once you stop eating, your stomach stops holding anything. your intestines start making up for lost time. and it’s gross to say it but it’s something i live with and in reality the symptoms make me want to just stop eating again. there’s a reason i didn’t get the biggest meal plan. maybe i’ll start working out again, because that always helps make me forget that im missing dinner again, because thats what i did last time. i dont like the way people talk about the “freshman fifteen” because they dont know what i was like when i was sixteen. they dont know how good i am at not eating.