#studying
With this apple as my prompt
And silence as my witness.
I begin the task ahead.
The early summer heat rises and knocks,
'Just one more night?'
That won't cut it.
My phone vibrates with all the anticipation
of youthful vigour and grit not yet ground out by the 9 to 5.
'One pint'.
'One hour'.
'One smoke break'.
Studying is an athletic pursuit.
Day turns to night turns to morning turns to nothing.
The clock passes by without meaning, time becomes an illusion
As the time draws near. The end.
Not my essay deadline, that's not truly bothering me.
The end of this time.
The peace of mind to say 'sure I'll come' to plans in rooms
Of strangers who become passing friends and
Go on nights that last long into the fading memory of messages that
Were left on read after a third awkward 'haha' from the night before
To travel in the middle of exams and soak the sun in
Barcelona
Take breaks from the brutal reality staring down the barrel
As life comes knocking when summer time ends.
The coffee shop is open. Time to go.
May 9
May 9, 2026 at 7:40 AM UTC
Thesauruses and dictionaries
Classes of literature
Expanding knowledge and techniques
Penmanship and formatting
Hours upon hours of
Studying and applying and writing
Understanding styles and grammar
Enough to cause migraines
So much work and so much to absorb
From beginner level to doctorate
This restless brain is aching
To truly explore and master poetry
Yet despite all this expansion and reading
Despite all the metaphors and pieces
It is still so very difficult
Creating a poem to describe how truly
Heartbroken I am for you
Feb 10
Feb 10, 2026 at 9:26 AM UTC
It is not from our hands
But from the instrument
That music rises.
Similary,
Hardwork is not simply
The key to prosperity,
It is where we channel it
That paves way to success.
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 7:03 AM UTC
studying is like a promise
" I wont be death by tommorow"
"I have a test to sorrow"
but you don't know
you could only own
the knowledge of this
just as it is
Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 7:11 AM UTC
my dad taught me English
just one time
I was at the age of nine
or maybe six
three
or two
I have no clue
it’s his first language
or something close to it
from Cuba, China, Canada,
to college in the Netherlands
and meeting Belgium for the first
not only for thirst
but because it’s a place
called home
for my grandparents
cause at the end
you always come back
to what you’ve had
I guess that doesn't rhyme
but It's fine
when I was twelve
I had to go to language camp
trying to learn
the language that has burned
on the soul of my dad
don't get mad
I came crying home
practice was needed
one week
not enough
so after summer turned
school returned
English I learned
while I sat on that chair
in the seat over there
pen and book
it was terrible too
but after three years
I could finally say
"How are you today?”
not special for sure
just studying this
everyone can do it
but I hope someday
I can make him proud
when he won't shout
when I make…
a misssteaaacke
I'm sorry
Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 10:00 AM UTC
I’m new to ‘self-directed study,’ it’s a construction I’ve never known. It’s kind of a faustian bargain that resembles another self-paced activity—treading water. The program’s like an immersive plunge in deep, choppy, informational seas.
On the other hand, instead of dark, crowded auditorium classes, we’ve been studying, on sunny mornings, out by the pool, where there’s a summer-camp-like vibe.
When I say 'we', I mean Chella and I, we’re a two-girl study group. I’ve only known her for 13 days but we have a lot in recent-common. She was in my Yale graduation class (last month) but our paths never really crossed at Yale.
She’s a tall, lithesome, black girl from Miami Florida. Not the sandy beach Miami, where palm trees sway, bikini clad models strut and flamingo-pink art-deco bars face the ocean. No, she’s from the Liberty City ghetto—and she has stories.
She say’s that getting her Yale acceptance was a sea change. People were incredulous, as if aliens had landed or everyone in her high school had won the lottery, There’s a sad but steely resignation in her voice when she says she’s never going back there, "Evah."
So, it’s 86°f here in Boston, MA, and we’re out studying by the pool. There isn’t a cloud or bird in the sky and the sun looks—well, honestly, we’re not looking at the sun—we’re college graduates—we’re in the shade. I was afraid the pool would be summer-time crowded but we’ve been the only one’s here all week. We plunge into the pool and then read.
As Blue Coupe by Twin Peaks finished playing on my Bose Soundbar, Chella professed, “I literally LOVE that song.”
“I’ve loved that song since 8th grade,” I agreed.
“I don’t think my musical taste will ever be better than it was in 8th grade.” Chella confided.
“8th grade’s when everyone’s up on trends,” I said, thinking back.
We read for a while. The only thing tainting our near resort-core experience, is the flood of material we must cover.
“I want to be jolly,” I declared to the universe,“I’m holding that today.”
“You keep yourself so grounded,” Chella said, “like you refuse to delight in anything!”
“That’s not true!” I gasped.
“Yes, it is!,“ she updogged, if anything goes wrong, you’re just done.”
“NOoo!” I laughed. “Ok, two things, if two things go wrong,” she amended.
“That’s fair.” I admitted, “I’m a two chance girl.”
“That’s fair,” she agreed, then she added, “I’m going to switch the vibe up.”
‘SIREN by Shygirl’ began banging as we went back to our reading.
‘Self directed study’ has it’s advantages.
.
.
Songs for this:
Count Contessa by Azealia Banks & Lone
Blue Coupe by Twin Peaks
SIREN by Shygirl
Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 10:20 PM UTC
Sown seeds grow into crops
on a wide field.
The longevity of the crop
is not always dependent
on the time taken to nurture it.
Too much water
floods the pores,
slowly seeping out,
no longer able to reach the roots —
and the shoot eventually dies.
Other external forces,
like pests and weeds,
reduce the yield.
The health of the crop
can be improved
by frequent irrigation —
not too much, not too little.
Frequent ploughing of the field,
regular manuring, and
assurance of no interference
is more than enough
to bear fruit.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 10:20 AM UTC
The countdown begins
Three whole weeks,
then one week,
now four days,
it’s tomorrow-
in three hours.
Until the dreaded hour comes and goes.
But it doesn’t end there.
It’s only the start
of my two weeks of hell.
My hands sweat and shake
as I frantically flip through pages,
what have I been revising for?
weeks of effort-
but the words blur into one
and… time.
Pens down.
I’ve messed it up.
Again.
Then comes results day,
Suddenly, sitting the exams seemed like heaven
compared to this day of hell
because I already know-
before I even open that little sheet-
my work probably hasn’t paid off
And…
I’ve messed it up.
Again.
Now I sit in front of my parents
and they ask
if I even tried,
but I did try
I tried for four weeks.
Eight hours a day.
Up to the very last minute.
I tried.
But they’ll never know,
because all they see is
that little white sheet
with the little black numbers.
all my hard work-
reduced to nothing
they can’t see past the percentages
to see me,
crumbling
before their eyes.
So I stand and sigh,
which nobody sees or hears,
pull out my textbooks of torture,
and let the current of words
and equations
and lists
pull me under…
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 5:40 PM UTC
There’s a feeling called
the drifting force
that makes you want
to shift your course
and find a better vector
on boring study nights.
They’re so many things
a girl starts missing,
like hugging, dancing
and oh, yes kissing,
when she lets a dry syllabus
control her life.
After several hours
of intensive reading,
your intuition is that
what you’re needing,
is something we’ll
politely call ‘delights’.
But you make the almost
painful choice
and factor out your inner voice
and you pick up yet another book
and not a boy,
because, you see - it’s really
a necessity, not a choice.
Sep 13, 2023
Sep 13, 2023 at 7:32 PM UTC
It’s 6:15pm. Peter, Anna, Sophy and I are studying in the common room of our suite.
“We need to get serious,” Peter whispered, but there was no subject in the declaration, so I was left confused and uncommitted, “about getting serious,” he clarified.
“I’m not sure I can get serious about a guy who doesn’t separate whites and darks in the laundry,” I say, gently.
“No,” he said, shaking his head in brief vibration, “we need to get serious about DINNER.”
“Oh!” I said, maybe a little too relieved.
“Ha!” He chortled, “YOU overthink everything!” He said, nodding his head up and down to prove it was true. “And speaking of laundry,” he continued, seeing me start to open my mouth, “the other night YOU asked me if your pastel purple ******* should go with the whites or darks - so I must be an EXPERT!”
I laughed at the idea of his laundry expertise, sailing in from out of the purple like that, it was haywire. “Well,” I said, becoming introspective, “I didn’t know you’d hold onto that question like a grudge,” I said, in quiet, wounded accusation, “from now ON, maybe you should stay as far away from my ******* as possible.”
“What are you two grousing about NOW?” Anna asked, looking up from her computer. “You guys are like an old married couple.”
“True THAT.” Sophie said, like a judge right before knocking her gavel to finalize a ruling.
“We weren’t arguing!” I said, looking around confusedly. I looked at Peter, who was smiling broadly, “Were we?”
“Nope,” he said, wrapping his arm around me in a bearhug, “we were flirting.”
Sep 22, 2022
Sep 22, 2022 at 2:43 PM UTC
He puts it out there, the Schrödinger’s cat of invitations.
Now, I’m irritated. “I TOLD you I don’t have time for.. involvement.”
“But you have to eat - so eat with ME,” he shrugs. “You can build a friendship with someone and still have freedom.” His observation was casual, as though it were unrelated to anything between us. He seemed to have the intuition that I’d balk if pressed.
“You’re subversive.” I said. “Why me? There are prettier girls, more agreeable, fun girls. I feel like I’m on the edge here,” I look around to indicate the room, the environment, the university. “And I can be a complete as-hole.”
He looked a little offended, “You’re interesting, I like what I know about you and, yeah, we can all be as-holes - we’re in a pool of “A” types, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“What do you KNOW about me?” I ask.
“I’ve read some of your writings,” he looked thoughtful, “I may know a little about how you think, It’s unusual.. interesting.”
I’m shocked and I squirm, “You looked me up?”
“I looked you up.” he nodded, “to be sure you’re not an axe murderer.”
“How much did you read?” I asked, wheedling, my inner-writer engaging.
“Tell you at dinner - YOU name the date and time,” he smiled.
“My idea of “dinner” is walking to a dining hall, picking up a bag of food, bringing it back here and taking ten minutes to eat it between chapters,” I warned.
“I have a meal card,” he says, jiggling his student lanyard.
“We’ll see.” I said. “Have you talked to anyone else about my writing?”
“No,” he answered, “Why?”
“Please don’t, I have to think about it.” I say. As far as I know, no one I know in RL has read me - it’s an odd feeling - like maybe he got ahold of my diary. I haven’t worried over the fact that someone I’m in physical proximity to could look me up. That all this stuff is actually out there.
“Don’t think my misgivings can be cajoled away,” I say, “no more talking.”
He chucked but we got back to studying.
Nov 16, 2021
Nov 16, 2021 at 10:21 PM UTC
Self-studying is the dichotomy of enthusiastically knowing more and insignificantly knowing nothing, along with the roots and branches of motivation
Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 9:47 PM UTC
lofi hip hop decorates my brain
notebook formulaic and profane
anxiety seeps my malleable mind
latching onto anything it finds.
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 8:24 AM UTC
what if?
what if all this studying
crying
stressing
trying
is for nothing?
what if?
what if i cant do it
i crack in the real thing
i just fall apart
how will i know?
i doubt everything
every little move
every little decision
what if it is not enough?
Oct 25, 2020
Oct 25, 2020 at 8:15 PM UTC
i study, i study, i study
it over and over again
the words dance all in my mind
but still, over and over again
i fail to remember and to retain
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 10:05 PM UTC
Why should you study?
And persevere? And listen?
And write? For people--
For the people you'll see, for there are just
few you'll. And still fewer among them, who
will be around to see you.
In a makeshift heaven of this world,
This world fits right in- not without gaps,
Not the best close-packing ever.
Which lets you think and shift the pieces forever.
Not at all exciting, if you want to
See it that way. But do you have a choice--
Except all the the ones you haven't tried
already? Hinged to the far side of moon
You might be, but wither you'll soundlessly
off this grand tree. So a fair chance there is
you might see, where this is going and realize soon: You won't know if science has advanced, You won't know if you've made enough amends, You won't know anything
except for the people you'll see, even what they've to say, you've to understand.
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 10:17 AM UTC
i am yet to place
a name to a face,
the ripples of your voice
in any of my module choices
you're a deciding factor
and i'm going through them all
digging through lecture capture.
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 12:01 PM UTC
trust that you can,
learn to be motivated
believe in your potential
and love to thrive.
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 1:44 PM UTC
Matrix vector analysis is easy
for a long time it will keep you busy.
To be honest,its like psychotherapy..
Cause it keeps your brain from other thoughts,
that would make you dizzy.
To be or not to be,thats not the matter.
Choosing the less bad,from your only bad options
should be your talend.
Your criteria should be logic and a planning list
That's what will assist.
And when you evetually start vectors liking,
congrats,
youre now a *********
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC
If I fail this test... well I don't know...
Perhaps I'll drop out of school and walk
Thousands of miles to start a new life
Where things are easy and nice and sweet
Like spoonfuls of sugar for mouth-bleeds.
Or maybe I'll tug my hoodie tight
And hibernate in my mobile cave,
Soundproof from the shuffling strangers there,
Because behind the walls of my mind
All I need are daydreams of springtime.
Or I might borrow a better brain
From a friend who knows a lot of things
Like how to laugh right or calculate
The speed as Train A, Train B collide.
Yeah, I think that plan would work out fine.
Unless... unless I manage to pass.
But that's just a silly thought to have.
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 1:46 PM UTC
The weird thing with boredom
Is that it always only occurs
When one has quite a lot
Of actual things things to do.
Like right now,
I am writing
Maybe getting a couple of likes
When I should be studying
So I don’t get a grade
That makes me go “Yikes!”
Like right now I feel deprived
Of things to do,
I think it’s cause one gets easily bored
With what’s right in front of you.
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 3:26 PM UTC
science is all about mistakes
both making them,
and feeling like one too
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 2:57 PM UTC
Scattered books and pens
A noose hanging from the roof
The ink running dry
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 10:19 AM UTC