Our caps flew like confetti.
Thank god I customized mine.
I'll keep it as a memento of all-nighters,
friendships formed in the academic trenches,
dismissive professors and group-project-tortures.

This isn’t another ‘drunk girl’ holiday, despite obvious similarities.
Our parents, sisters, brothers, and grandmothers are here.

We came in doe-eyed, holding overpriced planners,
and enough provisions for two year Mars missions.
We hoped to discover friends, decent Wi-Fi signals
and perhaps our adult selves.

Now we're holding diplomas, those future-proofing talismans.
Mine’s in molecular biophysics and biochemistry.
Which is wry, because when I was in high school,
my sister accused me of not knowing how to boil water.

I've been asked "What’s next?" a thousand times in the last month.
I have plans—but I was dying to shrug and say, “that’s tomorrow’s problem,” like I’ve spent major duckets, degree wise, but remain the ditzy blonde.
The standard graduate answer, I’ve heard, is "I dunno."
(though honestly, it’s a great answer).

Congratulations, all of you graduating overachievers out there—everywhere.
Go forth, be fabulous and find that next big dream.
Can you believe we actually did this?
Argh! I gotta go, someone wants another picture.
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Songs for this:
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
Summer Wind by Robert Mosci
Tomorrow by Wings

what if I’m waiting
for something that will never come,
what if I was not who I am,
what if I never questioned

what if I don’t want to look on prospects drear
what if I want to be the mouse, not man-
who only lets the present toucheth thee,
to not be a human
that guesses an’ fears.
What if I accept that
even the best laid schemes
gang aft agley,
that often my whimsical dreams
are to keep my actions at bay
tucked under my hat,
kept from leading me astray
because after all Burns said,
in proving foresight might be vain.

And maybe a humans life is what I was destined to get,
but I will not be stopped yet,
though plans may falter and not be met
I will keep here set
In my human form of pain and regret.

Surrounded by ideas and plans,
you were paving your own way—
an American, Chinese, or European dream,
it all looked like the perfect world.

In chasing that vision,
you lost sight of yourself.
Stirred by the illusion’s chaos,
you chose to listen to a fairy.

That grand design in your mind,
planned out over a lifetime—
how much it shapes
what you allow yourself to feel.

One life, one chance:
follow who you want to be.
Stop forcing, stop pretending—
don’t chase who you “should” be.

Your great magic puzzle—
you can shift it however you wish.
Step outside your own design,
and let yourself feel again.

Rodeado de ideas y de planes
estabas preparando tu camino
sueño americano, chino o europeo
todo parecía un mundo perfecto

En la búsqueda de ese mundo
te olvidaste de ti mismo
la consciencia de una ilusión agitada
a un hada decidiste escuchar

Tu gran proyecto mental
que planificaste toda tu vida
cuanto influye, en lo que
te permites sentir

Una vida una vez
sigue lo que quieres ser
de forzarte y obligarte
no sigas lo que debes ser

Tu gran rompecabezas mágico
como tú quieras lo puedes mover
sal del esquema de tu vida
y permítete volver a sentir

From an infant to a child, growing into an adult,
Then working every day, planning for retirement,
Never thinking, it could be one of the hardest parts,
You act out, in this life, as you know it today.
Even if you financially planned, your home, bills are paid,
Changes in society, the loss of family members,
All of mine have passed, along with, many special friends,
That were close, and others who migrated another way.
Often for a smile, you think of memories, of lost past days,
Scanning records, you cherish, stored, in your hippocampus,
In your brains temporal lobe, it would now take twenty four hours,
To just arrange and plan, what you use to accomplish, in one day,
Reminiscing, of old cars, clothes, events, or that special game,
Now realizing, they were pieces, of your puzzle, to where you are today.
Next time you look in a mirror, those lines on your face, you earned,
From tough decisions, to the memories of enjoyment, from days & nights,
When you just could not stop grinning, ear, to ear. Changes to control,
Many man made distractions, in life today, most modern day children,
Could not think of following, the footsteps, you traveled in past days.
For those you love, and those who do you, food for you soul, the part,
Of you, that will survive. Old and young souls around you every day,
There is no way to separate them by age. Born philosopher’s & prophets,
Are still among us, delivering messages, you have many directors as you,
Act out your part, in this life, on planet Earth, which is your stage.
                                                                                                                        The original: Tom Maxwell © 03/27/2025 AD

When it came to love
I had no real plan
I know I wanted to connect in an intimate way
with experimentation and playfulness

I was short on experience
there was a pandemic
I’d had few ‘at-bats’
that’s a sports metaphor

Much of it seemed surreal and abstract
like we’d entered another realm of everyday places
there was a subtle unpredictability
that was unfiltered, instinctive and unapologetically unhinged

freedom permeated every element
still, our collaboration allowed for honest conversation
I remember asking, “What are we doing?”
Thinking back, It underlined how vastly different our two experiences were
.
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Songs for this:
Overtime (pt 1) by Mk.gee  [E]
Blur by embrs & astralcurrent

The first time around,
We didn't plan,
We talked in tomorrows,
Because we knew it would end.

Yet on our second go,
We planned it all out,
Now we talk in years,
Because I only have to wait seven more,
Before I can put a ring on your pretty finger,
Though for now that's fantasy.

Timing couldn't be any worse
We were living in a makeshift flat
While barely making ends meet
But we always wanted a baby
So we were thrilled anyway

Yet life had other plans
Of loss and unbearable pain
As it does over and over again

My roommates and I
always have something to say.
We talk incessantly, like chirping birds.

We’re all reading the same large print here, and It suggests that college is almost over.
We’re bleeding time and there are dreams in need of scheming.
It’s time to stack our chips with transactional relationships and hoard the things that matter most.

I have to admire the sheer attitude and bravado of these girls—their defiant strides,
as they face the invisible indignities and constant obstacles of job hunting.
(Where they’re required to behave while they’re observed and evaluated).

They have their resumes and they’re complaisantly ready to flex their appealing gregariousness.
All of the major playas are passing through—from established giants like (Amgen, Bayer and Genentech)
to biotech startups and research Institutes—to cull through the herd of Yale biomedical graduates.

I don’t get to play (interview) this time and it’s rough just watching the signs and plays from the sidelines.
I can’t help the feeling that I’m underperforming—even though my ‘Master of Public Health (MPH)’ program starts 10 days after we graduate. ‘Baby, I was born to run’— to steal a line from Bruce Springsteen.

Despite our separate paths—we’re like cats getting ready to jump in all directions—a bouillabaisse of intoxicating and terrifying excitement for the future is brewing, and we still have the constrictions of our current curriculum to deal with—like a snake, it still wraps around every aspect of our lives.
.
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Songs for this:
born to run by Bruce Springstein
Time by Tom Waits
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Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December!:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_03.mp3