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#applications
Emails, scribbled notes with sentences you can’t read, and lectures transcribed to text. Lines memorized- written, spoken- now forgotten. Do it again. Again, again. Meet in the library, speak in front of your peers- type on the computer what you see and hear. Log into your account at home, food on the tabletop- untouched and cold. Blue light blur my eyes all night. I missed your deadline- your message- your voice. Forgive me for lateness… I’m sorry if it’s rude. Please accept me- my apology, my manners, my application. Accept me- I’m more than capable. Please understand. Look at my signature to **** myself. I wrote it four years ago. Your contract… what does it mean now? You’ll refer me to someone else? Oh, okay I love this game! Refresh my memory, timeline, and inbox daily, hourly, and between every second. My meetings, lines, speeches, steps, breaths and beats rely on your patience. Thank you for your consideration! You understand I have no other options right? Oh okay you do? Perfect! You’re just an admissions counselor- you can’t do anything? Okay… where do I start? How can I put my life back together in less than one year?
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Apr 19
Apr 19, 2026 at 5:53 PM UTC
One Less Year
I am not micro soft I have full access to excel as a publisher My outlook does not sway I am a hot male Let's interconnect Paint a picture from my visual studio It's in the works do you see my power point? I have more than one drive There are teams of forums that share one note inside my power shell Time to connect at the edge I azure you Lets groove to the music WORD!
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
I am not micro soft
College applications are done Acceptance acceptance... acceptance Fill out forms You're in, that's good Recommendation letters A b r e e z e But oh dear. Scholarships. They need what now? SS what's that Number again? AndohmyGodifIhavetowritemyname O N E M O R E T I M E You have my email! Address upon address, didn't I just look at this? IT DIDN'T SAVE. Start again. Breathe. College will be as the applications. Easy?
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 6:42 PM UTC
Life of a High School Senior
What is this maze? Of questions I am trying to go through But there are nothing But dead ends Trying to make me look bad Either way I go I hit another dead end
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Applications
She stared blankly at the computer screen With its flickering screen of judgement. What are you looking at? Silence. A screensaver. Enough of that sass. It was finally complete. Her hair wearing its disheveled frizz like a badge of honor From all-night typing And two pots of coffee Where her comb-fingers turned the smoothness of her hair Into a stress-reliever As she muttered madly to herself (But quietly, so as not to wake the roommates Who slumbered in their honey chambers Away from the heart of her hive of activity). She had buzzed all night On a caffeine-high That made her hands tremble Her muscles ache And her eyes hate her. And now With too much to do And a limited time to do it in She had to keep buzzing. Coffee *** number three was carefully stored In a travel mug That she clutched to her clavicle Just to keep the warmth that much closer to her hyped-up heart. She made her stops at offices and libraries Retrieving promised letters And printing the labors of her night intensive Before she could finally deposit it Behind the glass windows Of the scholarship office. This is too much work for less-than-ideal odds. But she had no time to dwell On the gamble she had made And paid in hours of wakefulness And the inked-up peelings from tree corpses. She rushed from class to class Where she tried to speak in coherent sentences, To dance with sharp choreography, And to contribute to society But her body hated her Because she had betrayed it And deprived it of the only thing that it truly loved in this world: Sleep. It would have its vengeance. It would have its vengeance when she was old, creaky, and could no longer move. But for now, her body made do with small rebellions To demonstrate its displeasure. Sentences were not sentences And every turn, leap, and twist Made her think longingly of sleep. And her body laughed. But at long last, The sun set The girl slept And then the sun rose. And this continued to happen Many times. It rose and it set It rose and it set It rose and it set Until she had forgotten And her body had forgiven The sleepless night.
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
The All-Nighter: Part 1 of The London Trilogy
She stared blankly at the computer screen With its flickering screen of judgement. What are you looking at? Silence. A screensaver. Enough of that sass. It was finally complete. Her hair wearing its disheveled frizz like a badge of honor From all-night typing And two pots of coffee Where her comb-fingers turned the smoothness of her hair Into a stress-reliever As she muttered madly to herself (But quietly, so as not to wake the roommates Who slumbered in their honey chambers Away from the heart of her hive of activity). She had buzzed all night On a caffeine-high That made her hands tremble Her muscles ache And her eyes hate her. And now With too much to do And a limited time to do it in She had to keep buzzing. Coffee *** number three was carefully stored In a travel mug That she clutched to her clavicle Just to keep the warmth that much closer to her hyped-up heart. She made her stops at offices and libraries Retrieving promised letters And printing the labors of her night intensive Before she could finally deposit it Behind the glass windows Of the scholarship office. This is too much work for less-than-ideal odds. But she had no time to dwell On the gamble she had made And paid in hours of wakefulness And the inked-up peelings from tree corpses. She rushed from class to class Where she tried to speak in coherent sentences, To dance with sharp choreography, And to contribute to society But her body hated her Because she had betrayed it And deprived it of the only thing that it truly loved in this world: Sleep. It would have its vengeance. It would have its vengeance when she was old, creaky, and could no longer move. But for now, her body made do with small rebellions To demonstrate its displeasure. Sentences were not sentences And every turn, leap, and twist Made her think longingly of sleep. And her body laughed. But at long last, The sun set The girl slept And then the sun rose. And this continued to happen Many times. It rose and it set It rose and it set It rose and it set Until she had forgotten And her body had forgiven The sleepless night.
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