"academically" poems
“Exams are important don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise. People will try telling you that they don’t matter in the great scheme of things
“There is more to life than exams Lisa. It isn’t the end of the world if you don’t obtain the grades to get into university” mum said.
This is all ******** I’ve no intention of spending my life flipping burgers in some crummy burger bar. Do you know they have the cheek to call these places restaurants?! Problem is strictly between you and I, you won’t let it go any further will you? Promise, cross your heart and hope to die? Well as you only have my first name and it would be impossible to trace me I’ll let you into a little secret. The truth is that I am not academically gifted. Don’t get me wrong I try. No one tries harder than me. I’ve spent weekends huddled over my books cramming for my exams, “Lisa no mates that’s me” but it goes in one ear and comes out the other. I just can’t remember things, head like a sieve thats me!
Well here I am now in my room at uni. You should have seen my mum’s face when I got the grades. There she stood her mouth gaping open like a stranded fish. Quite comical really. Did I say that all my hard work paid off? Well it wasn’t that difficult for an 18-year-old bomb shell like me to ****** the head master and get my hands on the exam papers prior to the examination. Perhaps academic qualifications aren’t everything after all”.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
I was two years behind Art Garfunkel at Columbia College, but I never met him. Nonetheless, like millions of other people, I consider him to have the most beautiful singing voice of the 20th century. Art's singing of BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER is celestial.
I was two years ahead of George W. Bush at Andover, but I never met him. Nonetheless, too many people voted to make him President of the United States twice. W. was not very smart. He did not do well academically at Andover and Yale and Harvard Business School. But his father, George H. W. Bush, had gone to both Andover and Yale, and later became head of the CIA, then Vice President, then President. Legacy was powerful in the 1960s, and still is.
I wish I could meet Art Garfunkel and thank him for the enormous pleasure he has given to millions of people. I would never wish to meet W.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 10:37 PM UTC
"I Need It"
[Intro:]
Turn it up, let me hear it
Turn it up, let me hear it, Oh DUMB
[Hook:]
I need it up in my life
Every night I get on my knees ask but
Heaven ain't been speaking back (speaking back) I need it up in my life
This goes out to every ghetto every project who know losing's not an option
I need it up in my life (yeah)
All this money cars and clothes
You know I'm balling out control, on you hoes
[Verse 1:]
They attempt to label me inhumane
I believe in God but not your God
Last ***** got outta pocket on the wrong decor got broke off What the **** is up with these A&Rs; "I Need It"
[Intro:]
Turn it up, let me hear it
Turn it up, let me hear it, Oh DUMB
[Hook:]
I need it up in my life
Every night I get on my knees ask but
Heaven ain't been speaking back (speaking back)
I need it up in my life
This goes out to every ghetto every project who know losing's not an option
I need it up in my life (yeah)
All this money cars and clothes
You know I'm balling out control, on you hoes
[Verse 1:]
They attempt to label me inhumane
I believe in God but not your God
Last ***** got outta pocket on the wrong decor got broke off
What the **** is up with these A&Rs;
Criticizing music they can't make
Poking fun at my struggles I don't find **** funny
I live in places that ain't safe
2008 I got my leg blown off
Any given day could get my head blown off
Rest in peace to Tyree Edwards
Bullet in his head got his head blown off
Tried school was a great kid
Academically I excelled in it
Grew up poor got teased a lot
Cause my school clothes had a smell in 'em
Same shirt four weeks straight
On the block grinding, got sales in 'em
Juvenile detention my case worker said I might be headed for a crash course
No father figure role models up in prison all my jump shots hit the back board
Head-on collision, not watching while I'm steering
No air bag, head hit the dash board
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
Approaching me and wanna shoot the ****
But pretend as if they're here to help Gates
Behind my back in front of label heads
Saying "Kevin just won't cooperate"
Missed flights, showing up late
I live life didn't rap about it
No time to live, my time for them
How the **** I'm gon' rap about it
Speak the truth or rap around it
And in a wrap around I rapped about it
Tragic ending for some family members
In heaven sitting wishing I was with them
Instead I'm stuck in this hell on earth
With pretend friends who think of ways to get me
Couple ****** I loaned money
Said they got me and never get me
Tell a ***** no I'm never guilty
Still ain't got no guilty feeling
Always telling me what I should do different
But can't explain why they ain't winning
My own blood just turned against me
In disbelief I'm like "not true"
Devastated, got caught off guard
When I seen the switch I'm like "not you"Criticizing music they can't make
Poking fun at my struggles I don't find **** funny I live in places that ain't safe
2008 I got my leg blown off
Any given day could get my head blown off
Rest in peace to Tyree Edwards
Bullet in his head got his head blown off
Tried school was a great kid
Academically I excelled in it
Grew up poor got teased a lot
Cause my school clothes had a smell in 'em
Same shirt four weeks straight
On the block grinding, got sales in 'em
Juvenile detention my case worker said I might be headed for a crash course
No father figure role models up in prison all my jump shots hit the back board
Head-on collision, not watching while I'm Steering no air bag, head hit the dash board
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
Approaching me and wanna shoot the ****
But pretend as if they're here to help Gates
Behind my back in front of label heads
Saying "Kevin just won't cooperate"
Missed flights, showing up late
I live life didn't rap about it
No time to live, my time for them
How the **** I'm gon' rap about it
Speak the truth or rap around it
And in a wrap around I rapped about it
Tragic ending for some family members
In heaven sitting wishing I was with them
Instead I'm stuck in this hell on earth
With pretend friends who think of ways to Get me couple ****** I loaned money
Said they got me and never get me
Tell a ***** no I'm never guilty
Still ain't got no guilty feeling
Always telling me what I should do different
But can't explain why they ain't winning
My own blood just turned against me
In disbelief I'm like "not true"
Devastated, got caught off guard
When I seen the switch I'm like "not you"
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
This one’s for the smart kids.
This one is for the honor students, and the straight A students
This is for the kids who stay up half the night studying, and the kids who work their ***** off for their grades
This is for the kids who can define and spell Antidisestablishmentarianism or tell you what DNA stands for (it’s deoxyribonucleic acid by the way)
This is for the teachers pets, the geeks, and the nerds. And the student who skips parties so she can study for her test.
This is for the kids who can solve complex mathematic equations in their head
This is for the kids who know that you don’t use “I” in a formal essay, and that okay is spelled O-K-A-Y, not O-K.
This is for the kids who can recite pi up to 200 hundred places, and the ones who can solve a rubix cube in 2 minutes flat.
The ones who take two language classes, and the ones who have been saving for college since they were born.
Geniuses of the 21st century, this is for you.
I would give you a gold star and a check plus for what you’ve done, but I’m sure you have gotten plenty of those. So I think I will just tell you something that only we could understand; Superb job at pursuing your academic careers with such ambitious outlooks on the world, and for having such admirable self-motivation.
I know that sometimes it ***** to be academically inclined, but in 5, 10, 20 years you will be working in some law firm or doing something you love and making multiple figures while the kids who blow off their school life will be stuck working for minimum wage at McDonalds or as a waitress for the rest of their lives.
So keep writing essays and doing extra credit because it’s not enough to survive high school, you have to thrive, and reach for the metaphorical stars.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
I was in the car with the mama of the girl I babysit,
her brown deep eyes like whittled wood flicked over mine,
and she asked me what I had learned at school today.
I don’t know, but I think it’s this spring fever
that seems to have burned a hole through my head
letting my brain bounce up into the blue abode
but the blame is not solely on the season
Everything I learn that keeps me living,
lives in the trains of thought,
thought by others.
The mothers I meet with the babies who greet the failure
at the first knock on their wobbly knees
compel me to contemplate further,
because with each waking breath
they are reminded that to live, you learn.
So I tell this fragile woman that today my teachers taught,
but the thought of their subjects
subjects negative connotations,
I want real lessons without plans to hand you wisdom, courage, and consideration
I get to learning in the jaw clinching, artery pinching, eyebrow flinching
awe of the way that woman can sing.
I’ve learned the color of my best friends teeth
because some days she smiles.
Learning to heal is hard enough, but to deal with a scab left raw
is something I will always need improvement on.
With, or without school I’m going to learn.
I’m going to learn cold beverage condensation rings,
percolating dreams,
my little sisters shy smiled wings
and societies racist, sexist, sizeist, ageist, ableist, tightly sewn seams.
Im rattling off my bare brisk list of ambitions,
of pleading for a voluminous scholarshipped tuition,
as I sit next to this woman waiting for a robust reply
I’m learning, that the whittled wood gap in her eyes
are round with sticky sap.
She will teach her daughter academically, never letting her size our common ground;
The skies.
I want her baby to experience,
and as if on cue,
her yawn brings in the tides of the oceans in her eyes,
something she’s learning to cope with,
she’s grasping my soft word’s
“This too, shall pass,
make sure you look to learn with your eyes not your brain,
dear baby girl, choose water over wood,
and when your mama tells you to pack that school bag,
make sure its zipper barely closes over
tightly stuffed open mindedness, and a few colored pencils.”
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
We have seen each other for a moment
you are immature, ***** ******* and idiot.
you are a tool
you are awkward and you think the world revolves around you
I have come to notice
that some people play dumb, when they are really dumb
you are unintelligent academically and socially
you need to grow the **** up
you never learn from your mistakes
You believe rumors more than my words
someone started a rumor that I was cheating
and you believed other six people instead of me.
You are so jealous of me
since I have moved on with someone else
better than you will ever be.
And every night I ask myself why I dated you
and I laugh every single day when I hear stories about you
that you are ******* ******* disrespectful and unfriendly to others.
I can only imagine what the next victim will be
and how she will tolerate your bad childish behavior.
I feel sorry for you because you never are over **** about your past
you get annoyed and bothered by little things.
You thought that I ruined everything here
but really, you helped me understand childish men like you
and now I can look for a better man.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
I wish I could tell you
Tell you all my secrets
So I wouldn't have to face them alone
I have anxiety
Which seems to be an overused term
By people who will never understand the feeling
Of never wanting to wake up
Where reality is too much
I'm asexual
Meaning a lack of ****** attraction
Easy right?
No. Nothing can be that easy to understand
Some of my friends have left me
My family doesn't seem to understand
How I can be asexual and have a girlfriend
My mom wouldn't let me get pride shirts
She allowed me a hair bow with my pride colors
Because it's subtle and maybe no one will notice
I have an eating disorder
Binge-Eating Disorder to be exact
My mom says I'm chubby
My doctor says I'm approaching overweight status
My friends are concerned
For they know how long I can go without food
They know how much I can eat
It's not by choice
I wish I was skinnier
I wish I could control myself
I wish I had control
I talk to myself
Like a whisper
I shut out my surroundings
To listen to the voices in my head
And this can lead to two things
Resolution or Destruction
For my mind has no middle ground
Struggling to resolve a situation
That I've poured over with gasoline
And the voices have lit the match
One false move
And the voices will win
I'm too smart for my own good
But not academically
I use animals to imprint scars upon my skin
I ride my scooter too fast down a hill
So my knee slides across the pavement
Ripping out flesh
A permanent reminder
That 1200 pound horse that stepped on my foot?
Not an accident.
When I sprained both my ankles at the same time?
Not an accident.
I have a gender that I can't identify
I feel mostly feminine
But some days I just want to be able to relax
In baggy sweatpants
With a muscle shirt
And short hair
Yet I know that if I cut my hair
I will regret it the next day
For my gender never seems to stay masculine for long
I had a journal
One that I would write in since 5th grade
It wasn't a diary
But it knew exactly how I felt
And when the bullying became worse
Turning from verbal to emotional
Emotional to physical
My journal suffered the waves of my tears
The fissures of the ripped pages
The erasure shavings left on every page
Until I burned it
Lit it on fire
Erasing any trace of who I am
So who am I you ask?
My secrets lie within this poem
So don't lose it
For this,
This is my last journal
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Tribes matter more than research,
jobs dished on ethnic network,
as academics are left to die
at the thrones of sadism
and selfish megalomania,
proffessors more illiterate
as reading culture succumbed to death,
to pave way for money culture,
harvested from parallel programmes,
that takes the beautiful
and the academically incompetent,
to the university at mercy of their wallets,
where the proffessors renew their sinews,
on the french chicken by parralleley style
on the tops of the female parallel students,
as they inspire them with new culture,
of laziness,twiterature and cyborature,
face-booking for unique *** partners,
as books are left to be dust ridden
on the miserable shelves
of ramshackle libraries.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
I grew up weird.
Both fast, and painfully slow.
I understood everything and nothing.
Socially, I started confident and grew awkwardly
first in the sun, then bending away from such bright attentions. Academically I started out running, always ahead,
always the best, the brightest. Straight As and
mismatched clothes, socially lost
yet somehow showing
'great potential'.
Now I've learned a lot.
All blacks and grays, I've finally
mastered at least a portion of my shortcomings
but its too late. Because I've grown up and its shifted again
analytically I see it, can emulate it, but it isn't
familiar or comfortable, it took me
years to catch up and I'm
still behind.
I've grown up weird.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
Welcome to a new school year,
Academically you're bound to achieve here...
Welcome to the rest of your life,
Is it weird to think that someday, someone's gonna take your hand and look in your eyes to tell you you're a quirky kind and,
Someone, someday will let you read their journal and you'll see no one is as happy as they seem, love!
Because everybody wants the life they've always dreamed of
You don't have to follow all of the rules,
And I'm sure you'll learn more things out of school..
Oh ain't it strange how, someday someone will want to get to know you, and they'll tell you things that might make them seem uncool,
But when you see beyond those ego's and big hair-do's
You'll see that no one is as confident as they believe love,
Everybody just wants to be the person they've always dreamed of
There's a rumour you might hear about yourself,
The halls of high school may change into highways, to Hell
But if you don't take care of your mental health
Then everybody's gonna think you're a nightmare but don't you dare let hushed words define you
'Cause i'm certain that your fate will gracefully find you,
So prepare yourself for fake friends and heartbreaks and don't forget to count your blessings as well as your mistakes 'cause someone someday will give you too much of their heart
And thats okay because...
Everyone you meet will want to leave their mark.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
Its been two months,
60 days,
riding this elevator up, down.
60 days each starting with a ride down,
hung over, sore lungs, red eyes,
anxious about my health, studies,
and when the amphetamines will kick.
60 days ending with the ride back up,
heavy eyed, mostly drunk,
anxious about whether or not I've impressed that girl,
or whether or not I give a ****
Failing, academically, morally,
I skip class, take advantage of people,
I **** my friends, **** strangers,
**** my sheets at night when I dream about the girl I've never met,
or maybe met but never considered.
I'm full of it, flexing my scrawny arms when I'm alone in that elevator.
I can't tell what I am to people, how I compare.
What I do know is I'm sick, lack empathy, *****
immature, greedy, drunk, spoiled, distractable.
But people like me, even grow fond of me.
The only thing I'm doing right is hiding,
myself within myself.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 6:23 PM UTC
I've read far too much psychiatry -
Now knowing from ear to there
Many mysterious processes
That make one's mind blink -
Acute chemical reactions,
Therapeutic medications...
But academic texts
In their dryness
Seem to lose
Life's realness,
Why we think
As we do.
That *****
That comes loose
To throw one off course
Could not be all chemistry.
So academically written are words
To those authors who don't live them.
I'd rather imagine some error of cooking -
That tarragon substituted for basil
Or marjoram instead of sage
Gave that strange taste
To the sauce of my life
That salt could not
Cover over.
A wife
Imbalanced
Wasn't my choice
As young lovers married.
Yet in time I heard the voice
Mimicking demons, evil in cycles.
Excused and forgiven as nature's vice
At first - then when wrath affected children...
A man can only accept his own scars
As the consequences of his living,
Entered into wide-eyed, willing.
By knife's nicks I've survived,
Callused skin is tougher.
But to save the tender
I think I'll give up
Cooking.
Insanity isn't contagious
As go diseases,
But as butter
It does
Spread
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
Jim socks and honestly
I bet
a bigger better bag
of eat
and oh maybe
I'll say excuse me
tonight
a la mode
and or load in the shorts
so the courts find me guilty
I'm filthy.
I'm famous for ****
**** me off
**** my hands
send me off
like a band of behemoths.
A squeamish man is-not-a-man
or a mammal
malice towards a camel
lake ocean
and babbling brook
Anne Frank handled it well
Academically
Flu epidemic. Lee
Harvey Oswald. Waldo
Donde estas?
Where's your dad?
Is he happy?
For you I'll adaptively choose to be tactical
Lisa is moaning
for you.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
this is how you’re gonna
go far, 1.5.
this is how you’re gonna
prove them wrong.
first, drop the number.
though they tell you otherwise,
it is as much a part of you
as the gum you stick under
your desk.
this world wasn’t made
for decimals or the 4.0’s
who couldn’t scrape the
digits off their skin if you
handed them a chainsaw.
you’re not going
where they’re going.
forget everything about
balancing chemical equations
and own the way you drink
your coffee black —
one day it’ll impress the
gold-skinned barista girl
and craft a story that
the periodic table could
only dream of.
purge the formulas from
your system and replace
them with bus routes
and train schedules and how
to become properly lost.
there is no theorem for the
fire escapes you’ll sneak onto
or the celestial alleyways
you’ll stumble across.
know your strengths, because
they’re practically shining
out of your pores.
literary analysis is worthless
compared to the way you
talk to strangers, and the
genius you’ll find shooting up
underneath the overpass
won’t care about how much
russian literature you’ve read.
what he’ll care about
is how you paint him every
sunset he’s ever missed
with the words you send
echoing off the concrete.
let every answer you’ve ever
bubbled in vaporize with your
mid-december sidewalk breath
and don’t wait to see whose
haggard face they blow into
next. you’re not going
where they’re going.
you are not a number.
you are who this world
was made for.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
Le Chatlier's principle only goes so far-
My system will not return to equilibrium.
There is too much stress-socially, academically.
Emotionally.
What is one to do?
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
I can't remember the last time that I was actually happy. Not the fleeting happiness of a funny joke or a cute animal, but deeply and utterly satisfied with my life.
Was it the warm nights in Spain that I spent dancing through the streets. Smile never far from my lips and the smell of ***** and freedom drifting through the air? Was it the rush of running through my new found apartment with the hopes and promises of being better academically and socially? Was it the night of Halloween when we first cuddled up by the campfire tipsy and falling in love? You telling me I deserved better than second place and promises of forever sweet treatment.
My head now swarms with fear and uncertainty. What is happiness. Where do I find it? Who am I and why do I feel like I am empty and out of control? These loud thoughts swirling in my head taking over control. Pressure building to extreme levels where that little voice tells me that the world is better off without me screams into my sad and scared void. Emptiness. When did you become so close to me.
As I lay in bed next to the man I thought I was going to spend my whole life with I don't even know where I stand. The fear of screaming and agitation at my actions or malfunctioning technology. The fear of an argument following closely behind any statement or conversation. Second place. Fun activities alone. Possible physical altercation. Where do I stand? I have lost control. I have lost myself... but I still have no idea where I stand.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
We were never at a crossroads,
because our paths never truly crossed.
Yet observing your life,
your time in college,
your new friends and acquaintances
all from afar,
leaves me feeling cheated.
It was upon seeing you in the library,
books all about you, hard at work,
that I fell in love.
You were beautiful, well-dressed and groomed,
you were highly intelligent, at the very least academically,
you excelled artistically, producing magnificent creations of paint and graphite,
all of which is still true to this day.
I attempted to get closer,
to befriend you and, of course, pursue more romantic relations.
You never were interested.
Do not get me wrong,
I have moved on, I live my life happily.
From time to time, however, I still wonder on what might have been.
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Freshman year:
honor roll, top 15%, on the right track (academically)
Senior year:
failing 3/8 classes, thrown out of the honor society, crying
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
Unstable rabble
ill in mind, body and soul
unfulfilled and desperately unhappy
fearful always, insecure, lacking and inadequate
skeletons in cupboards, shaming secrets hidden aplenty
false, fake, white-washed and all semblance soulless nonentities
vacuous sad pathetic weak and academically challenged majority
ignorant belligerent bellicose cowards, drunkards n mob shysters
rise, rise. rise
jump, jump. jump
do the twist n put the boot in
stand up and bellow
you can't loose your chains
your self loathing is too great
your shame and pains hurt all the time
you are reminded of your insignificance always
your helplessness and your weaknesses shames you
you always have to fake it, scrape, beg, borrow and steal
the aggrieved spectators as talents, wealth and the ritzy drive past
rise, rise, rise
jump, jump, jump
do the locomotion and spread the ****
scream and shout
hurl slander and lies
fight like cowards and bully
get badass and wicked and mean
get ****** angry and get ****** even
leave your bacon butties and fry the greedy pigs
forget your chips and come chip the brains of the tyrants hogs
put down those pints and lets keep this momentum of hate alive so
rise, rise, rise
jump, jump, jump
do the stoning and lets move like Jagger
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 3:47 AM UTC
I wonder if this is how animals feel, at the zoo or in the circus
Caged
Forced to watch everyone stare at them from the outside,
While they rot behind bars, not sure of what they've done wrong.
Forced to be tested on skills they were forced to develop.
Because that's what society wants.
Trying so hard to not be wrong,
Because if an animal ***** up, they get put down.
So they jump through the hoops that the circus provides.
Balancing on *****
Willing to put their lives in jeopardy to survive,
But wait,
That doesn't seem quite right.
Imagine risking your LIFE to SURVIVE.
Imagine developing diseases like depression and anxiety,
It's a free country, but we're under the imprisonment of money.
So they make you sit in a cage made of brick walls,
And laugh as you struggle to survive through it all.
They have you jumping through metaphorical hoops so you can see who's the best.
Receiving treats and praise if you're academically correct,
Staying on top of things to make your parents proud,
Stressing over the fact that you can't **** up or you'll get put down.
Balancing on a ball filled with school, sports and life at home
Until it pops and they push you into the wild all alone.
So I guess you could say we're like animals in a zoo or the circus.
Trying to get 100% on our standardized tests so that we can feel perfect.
But at the end of the day all your gonna feel is worthless,
Because you're being tested on skills you were forced to develop,
And sooner or later you're gonna get fed up
You're gonna jump on your ball and that ball is gonna pop.
It's bound to happen on your fight to the top
And it's inevitable, there's no way to make it stop.
So when you start to feel worthless
'Cause your test scores aren't perfect
Just remember we're animals being watched in a zoo or a circus,
So you don't need to follow society, blindly
Throughout your life,
Or you'll be caged up like me
Doing tricks to survive.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
We’re (my roommates and I) at a specific time of youth - a time I’ll call “close.” We aren’t fully adults but we’re close, we’re not completely out and independent, but we’re close. And once again, we’ve got choices to make.
I read this paragraph to the room.
Lisa gasped and exclaimed “Not choices?!”
“More choices?” Anna groaned.
“I’ll have a bacon-cheeseburger with large-fries,” Sophy said, adding, “and a blueberry-triple-malt shake.”
“Freedom is choices,” Leong, our favorite communist, ungrammatically observed.
We’re in the second half of our junior year - which is still hard to believe. We’ll be seniors soon, and seniors have one foot out the door - they’re ‘over the **** academically - nothing will be thrown at them that they can’t casually handle, so they sleep-in or trek off to job interviews half the time or in my case, go med-school hunting.
I’ve written about our lives - the stresses, healthy doses of narrative-suffused teen drama, the ascetic beauties and the enchantments of freedom - trying to capture a few real-life moments at irregular intervals, in small ellipses, to tack them, like butterflies on cork.
What’s been hard to capture are the subtler shifts in taste and mood as we’ve aged. I’ve had to purposefully slow down, doppler shift from frantic student to observant writer, to even try and grasp the constantly evolving, small variations. Like Anna’s cainogenetic expressiveness, Leong's imponderable politics, Sophy’s evolving, coquettish bar-side poses and the growing assertiveness of Lisa’s gaze.
As we mentally prepare for our real lives, there are diffuse metamorphic changes afoot. What will we leave behind and what will we keep in order to “grow up?” I don’t mean changes in haircuts, clothes and make-up - although I’m sure I’ll MCU-those-out - I mean the psychological changes.
Throughout our college careers, the objects we’ve surrounded ourselves with, the settings we’ve chosen to inhabit, the faces we’ve shown the world, and even our intimate notions of ourselves have changed.
And It’s still only junior year, I can’t wait to see what comes next.
Feb 8, 2024
Feb 8, 2024 at 10:55 PM UTC
One panic attack is an eye opener
Having two mental break downs
Within two days
Is another
It’s crippling
Your whole life
Feels as though it’s crashing down
Questioning your intelligence
Second guessing yourself
Feeling so lost
Unable to understand
What others seem to get
So easily
You are out of control
Of your emotions
Unable to compose
Yourself
That feeling of being nocked down
Once more
As you climbed so high
It’s humbling
And terrifying
Something needs to change within
Not sure if it is my
Pride or ego
But I need help
I need to not be afraid
To ask for help
For I require so much
Academically and emotionally
I wonder how many individuals
Feel this way
How long it takes to get back
On feet to where I feel
Like myself once more
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 11:04 PM UTC
They've just finished telling me
About how they think that a person
Should only be considered an immigrant
(Academically) for her first five years instead
Of the ten that I said I wish were twenty, and they
Manipulate my words the time that I made the mistake
Of telling them that I feel like my personality belongs, and
I turn around and blink and swallow hard and the teacher hands
Out our new textbooks and through my blurry eyes I write my name
Inside the cover and I look down and I rush out of the room to write this when
I realize that I've written my full, god- given name beautifully, neatly-- in English.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
It was 64ºf and overcast this morning when Lisa and I started our 5-mile jog to the New Haven Harbor and back. We always start our semesters this way. We’re emotionally ready for fall weather and hopefully, a long and cruel winter.
Sunny, Lisa, Leong and I were starting the morning with breakfast together. We have summer catching up to do.
Of course, Sunny never does the expected. Over a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios in the cafeteria, she announced that she’s “really going to try this year.”
“That's a choice,” Leong admitted dryly.
“You mean academically?” Lisa asked, for clarification purposes.
“Wait,” Leong updogged, “Did your parents ask for proof that you were here?”
Sunny rolled her eyes, she knew she’d get trolled with a newfangled declaration like that, but she meant it and she wasn’t tempted to elaborate.
“You’re a phoenix, rising from the ashes,” I said encouragingly.
“It’s a 4th in a lifetime opportunity,” Lisa noted.
Handling university academics is largely a structural task.
All it requires is artfully arranging information and slices of time.
“You’ve got this,” I affirmed.
“Let’s not get excited,” Sunny cautioned, “One reason I’m so hot is that I’m emotionally unavailable.”
“It’s your best quality.” Leong observed.
Tick tock, we’re all still unpacking but things are taking shape. Senior year starts in 3 days.
.
.
A song for this:
Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall
Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing by Stevie Wonder
Aug 25, 2024
Aug 25, 2024 at 1:31 PM UTC