it is probably a bad idea to drive far to her house at one thirty in the morning, invite her into your tiny little car with so little space inside that she feels like every breath she takes in there is mostly your exhaled words. oh, and make sure you don’t cruise around to nowhere mindlessly, and if you do, at least don’t do so to the tunes of the mix CD you just made her, with songs she loves and songs you love because you say they remind you of her. also, you probably shouldn’t park on a deserted street under a willow tree. if you do stop, make sure you don’t go into the backseat with her. if you do decide to climb over into the back, do not, whatever you do, do not hold her in your arms, especially not till dawn. and if you do make the mistake of committing all these little acts of treachery, don’t hold her hand all the way on the drive back to her place. don’t open the car door for her. don’t confuse her by refusing to kiss her anywhere at all. not even a peck on the cheek. because you are just friends. oh, and don’t leave her with words about how you are just friends, good friends, very good almost but not quite best friends. don’t tell her you like the way she laughs in her sleep. don’t let her know you watch her sleep.
His palms are sweaty, knees weak
there’s vomit on spaghetti already
He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm spaghetti
to drop bombs
but he keeps on spaghetti
like when you went out the night before and got back at three exhausted, so you stay in bed till 11:30 and get ready for work by 2:30 but then become very sad because you’ve sleep too late and miss all of the Catholic masses surrounding you and you crave it. because nothing feels like home the way incense does, and chants and songs you’ve grown up with, and feeling community with complete strangers who also believe this ridiculous story about that Jewish guy who walked on water, became the ultimate martyr before he turned into basically a zombie. oh and still continues to hang around as wafers and wine. I can’t believe I believe it. but faith is a gift right?
when ur sad just remember that u don’t look like you did in 6th grade
this might be my life from 2013 - 2015 how exciting is that? cost free Masters in Education at Notre Dame… ah my dad would be so happy, I’d be so happy. and then a paid research assistantship someplace like here (of many choices being thrown around) and then 5 - 7 years in a program like this
but first, from now till May 2013:….
- GRE’s in September (not too scared ‘cause I got a 2250 on my SATs and that’s the only reason Stony Brook accepted me even with my high school average being in the low 80’s and no extracurriculars loooool)
- raise my GPA from a 3.73 to a 3.8
- three eboards next semester. oh gawddd
- finish my honors thesis
- career center internship
- research…all day everyday…
- DPLN mentorship program
- continue working at a group home
- continue volunteering at the campus child care center
- have a life