#finals
(a silly series of Senryus)
It’s time to cram for
final exams, again, so
here we go, mug up.
My mind, coffee dark,
drifts in academic dreams,
—think roiling oceans.
A ‘mandatory’
society meeting? You’re
not the boss of me.
I’ll shun or eschew,
if I want too, sidestepping,
like a tap dancer.
I'm not lazy - I'm
high tech and in energy
saving mode right now.
It’s a pointed and
conscious decision—I’ll do
me and you do you.
.
.
Songs for this:
Simply Couldn't Care by Tracey Thorn
Each and Every One by Everything But the Girl
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December!:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_14.mp3
Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 8:29 AM UTC
I’m just twirling in the center of my room.
I’ve got way too much to do.
Has that ever happened to you?
I’m assailed, derailed and impaled by indecision.
I can’t find my lucky pencil and I have a final in 90 minutes
I have lab results to qualify and a term paper to finish.
I have two problem-sets due and I must arrange movers.
Despite my burn-out, I should start packing for move-out.
In order to get our reservations and tickets in hand,
we’ve got to finalize our summer plans.
On my theoretical schedule - I’m behind -
oh, and there’s a mountain of laundry to climb.
In finals week everything is ratcheted up.
and there’s the weighty and unavoidable demands of sleep.
I’m just a girl about to pass out in her room, over-caffeineed,
from chugging a large, iced coffee after 3 hours of sleep.
I’ve read that stress can affect valuations.
I think it’s true.
I twirl.
.
.
Down In the Seine by The Style Council
I Want You Back by Trijntje Oosterhuis
Make a Rainbow by Benny Sings
Let Her Go Into The Darkness by Johnathan Richman
May 3, 2024
May 3, 2024 at 10:15 AM UTC
The school year’s ending. ‘Spring Fling’ is tonight (Saturday) the biggest event (concert) of the year, and next week - final exams. It’s hard to believe that I’ll be a senior in about 2 weeks - when the chips are counted, and junior year is cashed out.
I can remember sitting in my little covid-prison (childhood room), in 11th grade, thinking “If I don’t get out of here (and go to college), I’ll go crazy!” And here we are. My plan - my dreams - actually happened.
“Embrace your potential, celebrate your uniqueness, and explore the infinite possibilities of your future!
That bit of self-affirming encouragement was in an ad for Kosas concealer (makeup) - which, in a clever, psychological twist they call ‘revealer concealer.’ The stresses of finals weeks (2 weeks) can cause dark circles, breakouts, and other skin frustrations. A good concealer hides imperfections, so girls don’t look too human.
What do guys do??
Don’t get me wrong, I love advertising, the world needs advertising - I’m glad someone thought of it. How else could we learn about new things? I know I get excited when I try something new out and it works. If heaven, for instance, turns out to be ‘as advertised’ - I think we’ll all be happy.
poetically…
*Our ancestors navigated their world by
stories of doomed lovers, troubled kings,
love triangles and magical beings.
In story we learned about loyalties,
the gods, mistaken identities and empathy.
In narratives, we labeled absolutes,
the world made sense and we defined truths.
Today, we’re wiser - we rely on advertisers.
We consume whims endlessly, like appetizers.
We’re blessed with consumerism and avarice,
for the new and exciting thing, we’re ravenous.*
My school plans have changed. We must be flexible (I’m assured).
My mom’s research (she’s my personal oracle) clearly showed that Med-schools are taking longer to accept students these days.
So, we came up with a plan 'B' last August. The theory is that an MPH (Master of Public Health) program lasts 11 months and would give me something palpable to show (a master’s degree) for my time between Yale and med-school.
What’s another year of school, when the alternatives were laying on a beach in Saint Tropez or enjoying a Mafalda, Latte Macchiato while shopping in Geneva’s City Center? (my bf works for CERN)
Anyway, not thinking it would come to anything, I applied to several schools (last August), and yesterday I found out I’ve been accepted to Harvard’s summer 2025, MPH program. Color me apathetic, for now, I mean, isn't Harvard a step down? (I applied to Johns Hopkins and Emory University (in Atlanta) as we'll.)
I’d have just 3 weeks between graduating here (next year) and starting there. Ugg, how exciting (but is it?).
It’s important to believe, when we make plans, that if we apply ourselves, they'll go ‘as advertised.’
.
.
(Summer, beach) songs for this:
Summer Dreaming by Harmony Grass
Girls on the Beach by Carter Cathcart
Please Let Me Wonder by Carter Cathcart
Apr 27, 2024
Apr 27, 2024 at 10:34 AM UTC
Fear not, doubt's dark whispers,
embrace the testing ground.
We face the same old existential dreads -
the unexpected twist, the vague essay prompt.
Genial birdsong mocked our anxious morning
and squirrels still scampered unconcerned.
“You’re a beautiful bundle of stress,”
I assured Lisa this morning
as I handed her her water bottle.
Dec 14, 2023
Dec 14, 2023 at 11:48 AM UTC
In crowded halls, ivy clad, walk the sleepless zombies - the walking dead.
They’ve come to grapple, the chosen few, in trials by pen and pencil too.
Long ago we quietly agreed to trade studies and stress for a lives of ease.
The fire of competition burns within, a pyre fueled by challenge and adrenaline.
We’ve been grinding from morning’s light to dark midnight, fueled largely by tasty caffeine's bite.
Sleep’s a distant memory, that’s been swapped for all-nighters, notecards and highlighters.
Professors who’ve taught us now plant briar-like, trickster-questions, to fraught us.
Have we synthesized it all - the labs, lectures and quotes, the chapters, quizzes and notes?
The hours we’ve spent, dissecting texts, parsing equations, crafting essays - pay off now.
Or don’t - the clutter of fact, theory, and tensors will separate the scholars from the pretenders.
But fear not, dear reader, for we’re tough, seasoned cowgirls and this is just another rodeo.
True, we chew erasers not tobacco and ride desks or lab stations, not bucking broncos
But some are thrown, bruised and scarred - finding their future careers discarded.
We’re required to hand-write our test essays out, a trap that negates AI with age-old foolscap.
We know the challenge, we’ve studied and crammed, to tackle the hurdle of ‘top-tier’ exams.
Beyond the stress beacons the sweet release - of holiday parties and presents that please.
But perhaps the sweetest possible tease, is the promise of slumber and weeks study free.
Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 10:54 AM UTC
It’s December and my roommates and I are deeply into Christmas. We’ve got a little 3ft tall Christmas tree with about fifty-thousand little multicolor LED lights on it (LEDs because we ARE saving the planet). We’re in the ‘study period’ right before finals and It’s a lowkey Saturday night.
Lisa and I were pajama’d and gelaxing in our suite’s common room. She was in a tan easy chair and I was slouched on our red corduroy couch, my slippered feet up on a white coffee table. We had a Christmas playlist playing throughout the suite, a ‘Christmas lights of Paris’ Youtube video streaming silently on our TV and cups of Keurig brewed hot-chocolate with little marshmallows.
Leong came out of her room and joined us, taking a seat on the far side of the couch with me. After a moment she stretched-out, putting her head in my lap. I love her jet-black, cornsilk hair and it wasn’t long before I found myself stroking it, a gesture primates have been making since the pleistocene period. When Lisa glanced over at us and smiled, I started making gestures like I was looking for fleas in her hair and eating them - in a silly, momentary comedy lost on Leong.
We got back from November recess a few days ago. After three years together, it was easy, almost automatic, for us to fall back in our rhythms as roommates. On arrival, I glanced through my drawers, ***** clothes and shelves, taking a casual inventory. Everything was as I remembered it but still, everything had the feel of trivial leftovers from some lost civilization.
I got a new M3-iMac, it’s really the best platform for putting docs side by side. The first thing I did was hit ‘restore my setup’ from the cloud. I love futzing with tech - I can remember when that kind of restoration would have taken all day - but fifteen minutes later I could tell from the files on my desktop that everything was restoring nicely.
As I sat back on my office chair watching the restoration, I felt myself relax. THIS was real life, this was how life should be done. No matter what else I’d done or where else I’d gone - this was how my life should be - at school, with friends, facing those challenges. It was a peek-moment.
It was an illusion that my little iMac welcomed me back, like an old friend, as it finished restoring - wasn’t it?
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 10:30 AM UTC
I traveled almost everywhere, growing up. It took years. The landscapes, flora and fauna, the art, music, cuisines and curse words all seem to blend together in my mind.
Mount Fuji, the Rhine, the Himalayas, the Chattahoochee, Shenzhen, Washington DC, the Alps, and Appalachians, Moscow, Beijing, Dublin, Portland, Paris, Atlanta, London, St. Petersburg, Tokyo, Rome, Wuhan, Berlin, the Yangtze, the Mississippi, Saint-Tropez and LA - are all jumbled up in my brain, like old, wrinkled maps in a glove compartment.
My mom has total recall - she can remember every day of her life since her mama handed her a faded yellow and blue rattle when she was 6 months old - God gave me the glove compartment.
Still, some things are unforgettable, like an electrical storm breaking around Mt Everest, the lights of New York City, at night, from a helicopter, glittering on the horizon like a queen’s crown. The Danube, from a riverboat under a too-bright moon and the elegant poverty of Italy.
In some ways, I grew up like an exile because we moved every couple of years and I’d have to start my social life all over again - usually in a different language. Every place we left seemed a lost paradise, and each new place seemed cold and harsh.
Speaking of home to harsh transitions, November recess is over and we’re back in New Haven - with two weeks before final exams. Welcome to exhaustion week (weeks).
This morning I started going through my syllabuses, and after a week of holidaying - they seemed like indecipherable relics from a different world, a world of papers, tests and stingy-fun. I’ve so many things to wrap-up, my brain can’t seem to contain them all, I’m a gadget that’s out of memory.
I used to take my books on vacation, to remain in the ‘game’ mentally and stay ahead of the grind. Not this time. Hey, growing up, I’ve had my moments of ‘developmentally appropriate’ rebellion - in this case - I wanted memories to hoard, like inoculations against the coming work and loneliness cycles.
Nov 25, 2023
Nov 25, 2023 at 9:07 PM UTC
Final exams start Thursday,
and it’s giving us all the feels.
Finals have a gravity of their own.
Are the papers worse than exams? Maybe.
The tension can be relentless and heavy.
“It’s finals week, see you on the other side.”
As for me, I’m almost packed up.
Time is an odd and unpredictable beast.
It’s hard to believe that in two weeks, I'll be a junior.
It’s an unimaginable prospect.
To work, for a long time at something that seemed impossible
- head down in concentration - then suddenly, like a passing,
cotton cloud somehow became a bunny - everything came into focus.
I’m halfway done. I’m going to make it. I got a chill.
I wanted to throw my lattice windows wide open and scream for joy
- but it might’ve been taken wrong. I’ve no time to give mental health advisors.
Next week might be a more plausible time for wooting.
May 2, 2023
May 2, 2023 at 7:20 AM UTC
tomorrow.
five hours between a hundred strangers, writing for my life.
my finals are starting, my hair is falling out, my self harm worsens and my anxiety is reaching for the stars.
tomorrow.
trying to decipher the text in front of me, that is not only black ink but letters and words, even sentences.
I need to calm down.
how do I calm down?
I am burning, crying, screaming.
I am hiding silently in my bed, knowing my body - loving as it is - provides me with enough bacteria to cough. my burning throat matches my inability to talk, to think, to see.
tomorrow.
the hours are counted, my life is not ending.
why is it not ending?
do I need it to stop?
please make it stop.
Apr 25, 2023
Apr 25, 2023 at 1:36 PM UTC
It’s Spring Fling today - an all-day campus concert with some up-and-coming music acts. We’ll be out there, in the rain if we have to, we're determined and somewhat waterproof. We went out earlier, doing a scan for friends to find seats and place stuff to hold our spot.
What, up until now, have been notes of preparation for summer move-out, will become a symphony tomorrow - after my last final - I’ll be a sophomore then, I suppose.
Peter has to check an experiment he’s working on. He hugs me and heads out.
“He’s so hot,” Anna observes, “he makes me think about *** and you know what - YES!”
“You can have him," I say, he’s too tall - and besides - he’s friending-down, with me.” I admit.
“I like him,” Lisa says, “he doesn’t complain or disapprove of things.”
“He’s the modern man,” Anna says, dreamily.
“And he’s REALLY good at kissing games.” I confide, grinning like a creepy boy, to make them jealous. They all made various noises that piggybacked and incorporated into one coherent gagging sound.
May 2, 2022
May 2, 2022 at 2:33 PM UTC
Winter tested my endurance with its sharp and burning cold and now the warm lavender evening, with its smells and sounds of spring seems like a gift. The breeze is warm, and even the broad zones of shadow contain an inviting warmth.
The campus lamps should ignite soon but groups of students are milling, talking and laughing as if no one wants to let go of the day.
As Lisa enters the courtyard the campus lights flicker to life. As she approaches, she lets her book bag slide off her shoulder. Catching it by its strap a millisecond before it hits the ground as she reaches me - without looking - like a practiced trick.
Taking my hand in hers, she asks, head tilted slightly to see my eyes, “How’d the test go?”
I’m the first one in our squad to take a final - most are next week. “Cinchy,” I say with a grin and a flick of my free wrist, “not comprehensive - it just covered the last section.”
“Yea,” she says, “look at you go!” A warm breeze wells to obscure her face with her flaxen, cornsilk hair. She lets her bag fall the last inch, and ponytails it, two-handed, with smooth, practiced ease.
Finals existed, like ancient, cultural crucibles, long before our time, but these are ours, as if they’ve always been waiting - just for us.
Yale is still new to us, but we talk, juxtaposing experiences, challenging and comforting each other, even though we’re on slightly different paths. It seems that everyone is pumped up though, a little stressed maybe, but more than ready to hit it.
Apr 26, 2022
Apr 26, 2022 at 10:20 AM UTC
Sometimes I feel like I annoy people
But I don't mean to!
It just kind of happens.
Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
higher and higher
don't look down
because falling now
is not an option
Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 5:35 AM UTC
you know what the worst things is???
when you are so stressed to the point of tears
and there are those four people in one class
that just make you so angry
that you want to slam your head against a wall.
But there are those two people
that know that there's something wrong
and make sure that you're okay.
And that's the point that pushes you to the edge,
and you burst into tears
but they let you cry because
that's what friends should do.
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 9:24 PM UTC
thinking to myself,
"how can I be like this?"
it's finals week
and I'm up till 3 again
I'm staining my own soul.
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 5:32 AM UTC
The chill crawls up my spine
Its tendrils of fingers intertwine
I walk a never ending line:
Anxiety that goes on
I stumble forward, determined but weak
I can’t remember how to speak
But from my mouth: a mournful shriek
Will there be a dawn?
Whispers begin to fill the air
They come and go from nowhere
Were they even real? Is nothing there?
Fear has a reek
What brought me to this dark place
What set me on this eternal race
What being or spirit, what face?
Ah, it’s finals week.
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC
I'm burdened with stress,
The plans that parents press,
and over grades, they obsess,
all to get to success,
my screams I must suppress,
Have no choice but try to impress,
but I must confess,
all this lead to no progress,
my life is such a mess
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 12:00 AM UTC
Concealed behind walls of white; hidden from the world, from possibility; trapped within; looking out at the world so wonderful, so full of color and light, whilst I remain hidden behind these walls. Looking out through windows; out at the world I crave to rejoin, recovering from my falls; internal and external; in my head seated under willows, the emotions and events link as I am pacing those plain halls, jotting my thoughts in a journal, then shredding them to bits, taking part in wordless turns; giving those who love me quite a fright.
Apologizing for my mistakes; so much repetition, replaying that tainted day; over and over, imprinted in my brain; there it shall stay, forevermore, like a red stain on a white cloth, eaten away by a silent silkworm.
Crying rivers of salt whilst standing in the rain; crashing down around me, splashing at my feet; soothing my shivers, the drumming of each cascading drop so entrancing; running down the storm drain; it leaves me be, a moment of freedom, but only such; to arise once more to be my internal torment; my reflection in the window.
Whilst behind these walls so confining, though there are others around me; I am alone. None can see through the eyes of another, and no matter how many stories of mine I tell they shall never be enough to explain why I am behind these walls; why I am so small, and so afraid; nor why I cannot wait for the day to be on the other side of the window.
As I stand before this view, I realize; this scene here, is quite like Alice; standing before the looking glass, so full of wonder and curiosity of what could come from being on the other side; freedom, surely; but then, once within that freedom; what shall become of you then? Still, the memories would be haunting; still, the past would not let you go; still, all who know you would blame you; still, all would certainly never forgive you; still, you can feel the pressure hiding just on the other side of the looking glass; waiting for you.
Also, on the side of freedom, come the questions; come the side-ways glances; come the distrust; come the watchful eyes; come the empty words; come the promises from those who barely knew and say they shall be there but all is the same; come the cries at night when the ache is so great you cannot keep it in any longer; come the conversations with hesitation; come the jokes with the carefully placed filters; come the songs they quickly switch; come the topics once barely uttered and now often discussed; come the stress soon to try to swallow you whole again; come the temptations that you cast aside; come the guilt and misery; comes the new and all-powerful chaos, waiting to devour you whole.
How could I ever forget the thing I most regret? Nightmare made reality; never entirely given a sense of safety or security; gripping in the dark, searching; leaving a scar upon my weary mind; to remind me of what it is I simply must discover; peace of mind; through the pale lit window.
Through the pale lit window is the potential for chaos, but also the potential for a better future. New outlooks on what could be; projects never before thought of or completed; inspirations for poems and art at every turn; knowledge of my strengths and weaknesses; energy and motivation to walk hikes for miles; songs to be written and sung; stories written, completed, and shared; words spoken that are so few, yet strong and powerful; a life ahead never before dreamt of.
- Jay M
January 21st, 2020
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 10:49 PM UTC
Papers are due
I haven't even started
my college career is thru
Tests and papers strewn
everywhere this week
and my head is a typhoon
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
High levels of cortisol,
limbic system taking control.
All this stress
leaves me a total mess.
So much studying left do
and I still have no clue.
mental breakdown makes weep,
I know i'm not getting any sleep.
I am strained
and my energy is drained.
I've got a headache
and really need a break.
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 7:56 AM UTC
gather round, as it is the season of stress:
as it nears may and june and
corners the wisps of summer that sting the air.
the scent of freedom and flights,
so close yet never close enough.
gather round, and watch as the silken spring leaves
(or, the strands of your hair)
turn inch by inch into summer screams of green
(or, the jealously burning inside you--
when you see someone smarter
see their right answer
see their paper; green and ticked and better.)
gather round, for it is almost over.
and you have worked hard- you have
(or, you have tried to)
and often that is enough.
the season of stress will fade soon,
but summer?
summer will always come.
summer sings in sun-kissed skin and lazy leaves
and blithe birds and timely trees;
gather round, to hear summer's sound.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 9:38 AM UTC
Procrastinated all day
So here we go...
Caffeine high
Music so loud
Laptop out
Calculator ready
Let do this.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 8:12 PM UTC
memories
feelings
tears
smiles.
after tomorrow, they'll be gone for a while.
as summer returns
and my main focus is not to learn,
i'll be alone and older by each day.
don't worry, we'll talk, they say,
but summer returns
and my loneliness yearns
for someone to talk to
but I don't want to bother you.
until august comes back
and my head goes whack,
will you speak to me,
you're not a real friend, can't you see?
I'm sorry that we didn't talk
and I feel as if I hit bedrock,
you'll act nice
and i'll think twice
about letting you back into my life
when it's filled with strife.
but i'll fail and become sad
then i'll drive you mad
until you leave
and i'll greave
until august returns.
May 22, 2019
May 22, 2019 at 9:39 PM UTC