#studies
Birds used to be dinosaurs
humans used to be monkeys
things are moving fast
The world’s conspiring to endow me with agency.
Are we sure this is the right decision?
They have us in dissections and anatomy labs,
microscopy in histology and simulations in clinical skills.
Professors are saying things like,
“in preparation for your hospital rotations.”
Shut up! Stop this runaway train. Seriously, slow down.
Here’s a peek inside my brain - a typical med-school weekday:
5am wake, coffee, organize my bookbag.
5:30-6:45 jog (with my escort Charles)
6:45-7:10 a shower and stuff
7:10-7:30 breakfast, toast with coffee
7:30-8:00 homework review with coffee
8:00-8:30 commute with coffee (maybe write a poem?)
8:30 AM to 5–6 PM, classes, blending lectures, small-group sessions, tutorial and practical labs and self-study.
6:30 Arrive back home, disheveled, for 1 hour of study with coffee, a shower and stuff (maybe write a poem?).
8pm dinner and coffee
8:30-11:30 ‘Méthode des J’ (recall injection studies) and coffee
Rinse and repeat, Monday through Thursday. Forgive the data dump, but I’ve been asked
My watch is so judgemental
It’s been giving me low sleep scores (low 40s).
I fall asleep quickly and sleep softly until..
Argh!! Who set that f-ing alarm?
.
.
Songs for this:
One Two Three - Hooverphonic
Chain Gang by the pretenders
Jan 23
Jan 23, 2026 at 11:30 AM UTC
I’ve been unashamedly holiday focused,
everything fit together like a puzzle,
all febrile worries were pardoned,
we took haven in our comforts.
I slept shamefully late,
we weaponized fun.
The world seemed parasitology free,
pharmacology, pathology and histology free,
if not entirely anatomy free wink wink
and except for my mom, assessment free.
It’s been great, it’s been Christmas!
But soon, my cares will, again, be fined tuned
by the Gordian knot of learning
and it’s ungentle reckonings.
If it weren’t all asked for - I’d be ******
.
.
A Song for this:
Coney Island Man by Swing Out Sister
Jan 3
Jan 3, 2026 at 2:47 PM UTC
Fall is having something of a moment - in Paris - from what I hear.
Me? I’m enjoying some large-group foundational instruction, small-group clinical tutorials, and what they call ‘dense-coursework’ because endless memorization and scientific concept acquisition isn’t dense at all.
Peter’s in Paris for goods, Woot!
And lucky him, he’s adjusting to waking up
to ‘Betty (Get Money) by Yung Gravy,’
blasting from my Sonos One speaker at 6am
right after Charles and I finish our morning 5k.
I’m trying to be present for him, to atone for endless studies.
My diary charts my intentions, anyway, like satirical epistolaries.
Now that Peter’s in Paris, he seems “S” obsessed!
I didn’t tell him, “Wait, isn’t that what A.I. is for?”
No, I go to minimal lengths to discourage him,
for we’re each other’s raw materials, are we not?
Shakespeare, a man who obviously spent a lot of his time on the Internet. Wrote about that very specific, emotional-space and little else. He disguised it, of course, with ****** allusions, drunken sword fights, mistaken identities and sick-burns - but it’s all there.
****** gender-bending, sneaking around, and jesters spilling blunt truths about “appetites.”
But he presented it all as real, human and normal - signaling pleasures full of breathing, tasting, feeling, and the overt-expression of ****** actions - he was a man ahead of his time - made for social media.
Of course, you can’t trust what a poet writes of love.
Not because of dissimulation, but because love is so exciting
- that the happening is all-consuming - and in the after-pauses, much is forgotten.
.
.
Songs for this:
Betty (Get Money) by Yung Gravy [E]
Man I Need by Olivia Dean
Bad Dreams by Teddy Swims
.
Yung Gravy = uhh he’z SO g.d cute and funny.
talking to Peter “If I didn’t have you, I’d stalk him to prove my love.”
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
I think I'll go across the sea,
And study music in Italy.
Leave with only the clothes on my back,
My jacket pocket full of little literatures.
Or should I study English arts,
In England?
I doubt I'd read much,
There's not a lot to see in a London fog.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 11:04 AM UTC
i love them,
"do you?", whispers my mind.
"i do," murmurs my heart.
but i stumble,
always.
words slip,
unwelcomed,
uninvited.
i don’t deserve them.
a tear falls.
the mirror blurs.
"it’s over already," the mind sighs.
Jan 19, 2025
Jan 19, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
Good neighbors, sweet friends, can you forgive me?
In long, still and creeping hours of study,
I can be stern and inaccessible.
My studies tax me to basest function,
resting, weight-like, on my wretched shoulders.
I, too-weary, ebb and at times, tend to
spare few feelings and gall, as if licensed.
Sometimes I go, unwillingly to class,
a melancholy lass. Please, if we talk,
speak gently. I labor under command,
and you may not be answered with reason.
Hereby hangs the tale, ladies just and fair.
Sleep, that dark medicine, has restored me,
my sanity and my better judgment.
Patiently receive my apology
and recall our many fun adventures.
Sep 16, 2023
Sep 16, 2023 at 9:47 AM UTC
We’re no strangers to perceptible sacrifice
so, we’ve put all flavors of fun on ice.
Einsteining overnight - alone - is
about as exciting as a windows phone.
But I’ve been-to-the-show as a pinckney,
and in my years of parental-stalking analyses
the juice is definitely worth the squeeze.
Soon holiday parties will be made gold
by candlelight and champagne cold.
We’ll decorate with reds and greens
and surrounding ourselves with tinseled things
we’ll sing songs of angels and newborn kings.
But not just yet, no, not now - now tis the pre-seasoning -
a time of unrest, stress and testing - and God help
you if they’re not impressed with your reasoning.
Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 10:21 PM UTC
It's been a long, long time
Since I went to school
Therefore, my memory of those days
Is hazier than a cloud of fog
However, whatever I do remember
I remember vividly, as though it were only yesterday
Such as, committing the biggest faux pas of my school years
When I was in the fourth standard
By wearing a t-shirt and jeans one fine day
While everyone else was dressed in uniform
Disturbing the whole class by talking about cricket
And thus getting a nice scolding from the principal
When I was in the fifth standard
Crying in front of the whole class
Later during the same year
Exam tension getting the better of me
Enacting the role of a princess in a cartoon show
While on the way home
During the seventh standard
Failing in quite a few subjects
At the beginning of the eighth standard
After switching from CBSE to ICSE
Being forced into a trekking adventure
Thanks to the annual cross-country races
Scoring an own goal as a goalkeeper
During the ninth standard
Failing in a record number of subjects
During the same year
Thanks to my obsession with cricket
And last but not the least
Making amends for my past failures
By clearing the tenth boards with flying colours
I can go on and on
But I think that's quite enough for today
Aug 23, 2022
Aug 23, 2022 at 2:07 AM UTC
Lisa was carefully pulling a strand of cotton candy off a paper-coned “barbe à papa” - winding it around her finger while absentmindedly gazing at a carousel. She seemed hypnotized by its white horses, trimmed in gold, with their brassy red and blond manes, as they hopped, like slow-motion rabbits, in circles beneath wreaths and garlands of colored lights.
My watch jiggled me awake, mid-dream. I was bemused. It took me a moment to orient myself. I groggily pushed the sheets off and performed a big stretch. It's Monday morning, I think. “Alexa, what’s today?” I ask, to be sure. “It’s Monday, April 25th,” she says.
A beautiful, if cloudy spring morning was going to bloom on the other side of my jacobian glass windows - any minute now. At least according to my weather app. “Alexa, good morning,” I say, to start my rattling, sputtering, steampunk sounding coffee maker.
College time is warped, measured more in deadlines than minutes. There’s no plan other than your class or test schedule and let me refresh you on the rules – there are no rules, I’m free to do whatever I want. I actually chuckle at that thought.
College is transformative but there’s a hoary sameness to it. Read, discuss, review and test - wash, rinse and repeat. This morning is reserved for test review. I have a final this morning - well, sort of.
Some classes have a quintet of tests instead of a big midterm and nerve-racking final. It smooths out the stress, but you still have an almost forensic exploration of ideas, and you want the answers queued-up, ready for easy access.
I quickly washed and donned my workout-wear. A glance at my watch told me I was right on time. I’d loaded my shoulder bag last night, with my book, highlighters, my phone, Air-Pods and a water bottle. I grab it as I head out. I’ll do my review on the treadmill.
Anna opens her door just as I do mine - perfect. We’re off to the gym.
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 7:13 AM UTC
We were calculating theoretical yields on chemcollective
and somehow we ended up dancing to ”go left.”
We were finding oxidation numbers on labster
but somehow we started laughing.
We were balancing chemical equations on PhET
but now we’re singing “World we created” with hair-bush microphones.
Believe your competence - be impressed with your progress.
Attack every challenge with self-contained ease.
Armor yourself with confidence.
You’ll like the way you enjoy it.
Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 8:55 AM UTC
The young lad
Studies through the dawn.
Sifting through pages
across the morning yawn
Wearily, he gazes through his glasses.
He tumbles somehow through the day
Trying, to understand the
Kinetic Theory of Gases.
When, oh when? Will it end?
His onerous rite of waking up
And studying, despite
Being worn out on the inside,
Keeps him afloat among the wreck.
When the world is sinking
Into an abyss
He is happy to just, be.
Yes he is,
To be on the verge of sanity,
To barely hold on to humanity,
To wake up, every morning.
For the situation outside is far worse.
While men lose their loved ones and
Moan in grief,
Happy he is; to study, and sleep.
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021 at 4:33 PM UTC
All my life I was lost and clueless,
growing up with no filter and foolishness.
With no family to love and care for me,
I don't know how they could leave and betray me.
No eyes focused on me because of my low I.Q,
my life has changed because of the help from a few.
With scientists helping me to become smart,
I am now realizing my life from the start.
All hopes come crashing down,
I'm going back to looking like a clown.
It was great while it lasted,
all I want to say is don't take life for granted.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 12:18 PM UTC
I sit staring into the wind
With an empty mind
Clueless of what to think
Aimless of what to do .
This feeling troubles me
It vexes me .
I can't find the balance .
Can I do them together
Or do I have to choose
This can't be forever
Hell! What have I got to lose
The question isn't either this or that
The question, is can you bring them both under the same hat .
As I write this, I think I can
Well I have got to ,
For I am a man
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 8:21 AM UTC
Am I really where I want to be?
Is this the path I chose, or the safest I picked?
Is there truly a prize at the end of this road?
And if there is, can I reach it wholeheartedly?
There is like a wall between me and those around me.
I don’t belong; I’m missing something.
I don’t have that unyielding passion.
I am bothered by too many things.
So I should just run away!
Run towards my goal, ***** the beaten path!
The scream of my soul will drown out the hardships!
This! Is! Who! I! Am!
If only it were that easy…
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
I had a **** childhood
But at least the music was good
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 3:32 AM UTC
The table that remains a mere desk on usual days
Is now a study for me.
The hours that seem persistent to tick when bored,
Now seem to race me.
Books all around me, pen marks stain my hands that either remain clenched
In a hammering motion while memorising or
Tracing lines, page by page.
Yes, taking snaps of breaks while drawing an absurd portrait of a dog.
Creativity, I won't suppress you if you chose a better hour.
Warm tears swell up in my eye.
In the debate of no drive and greed for success.
"Scores don't matter!", "Studies are important" comments flying cross the room.
But not louder than the bedlam behind these eyes that droop.
Why don't I accept the turn out when I know I hadn't worked hard.
This greed that never stirs at the last piece of apple-crumble-with-cinnamon-hint,
Now panting like a flesh-hungry varmint.
"Success does not equal A+ on the report!"
Replying through the heavy breaths, "Right, however its only those A+'s that run the world."
Although I'm aware an ideas' value is the heaviest.
Beating the high scoring mass, looking over it in disdain.
I knock my head to spring some out.
...Nothing
Back to the table, stooping over the book aiming for the higher grade.
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 1:47 AM UTC
So many questions
Blessed by completing her studies
Queen watches the night
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
In the shade of green
Past orchids and blossoms
are roses in bloom
Duties getting hard
But I know I will succeed
My mind remains calm
Studies nearly done
I have learned and overcome
No longer a bud
A bright horizon
Though feeling stressed, I'm smiling
My Kingdom will grow
In the shade of green
Hushing winds bring me birdsongs
As I pick the rose
My diadem glitters
New knowledge now grows in mind
A bud no longer
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 7:29 AM UTC
Cancer is killing me
even though it can't been seen
eating away inside of me
nasty and
obscene
We live in paranoia
as everything can ****
here in suburbia
where yes it can
and will
So read the stories and the studies
the ones from learned minds
analysis imperfect, subsidized
test samples small
and blind
I'm dieing everyday
and told to be concerned
a little bit in every way
as academic studies
spurned
I guess it's inevitable
my demise and my collapse
another somewhat gamble
with scientific
crap
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC