There's a design

I've recently had several conversations about post-graduation plans. Yes, we're all scared. Of not finding a job. Of not staying in New York. Of not finding out what we want to do with the rest of our lives. Of not being able to provide for ourselves financially. Of working a job we hate. Of not being able to handle the infamous "real world." 

My remedy is to turn off the lights, lie in my bed, and listen to Vito's Ordination Song by Sufjan Stevens on repeat. It's not the answer to all my post-graduate fears, but it's a start and a meditation of sorts. So if you feel like you're going nowhere fast, I suggest you try it. Stop. Listen. Repeat.

I always knew you/ in your mothers arms 
i have called your name/ i have an idea 
placed in your mind/ to be a better man 
ive made a crown for you/ put it in your room 
and when the bride groom comes 
there will be noise/ there will be glad 
and a perfect bed

and when you write a poem 
i know the words/ i know the sounds 
before you write it down 
when you wear your clothes 
i wear them too/ i wear your shoes 
and your jacket too

i always knew you/ in your mothers arms

i have called you son/ ive made amends

between father and son/ or if you havent one 

rest in my arms 
sleep in my bed 
there is a design 
to what i did and said

Oh and I'd give these songs a listen to as well.

Scandalabra

It's natural for people to share good news with their friends. It's even common for people to share good news with complete strangers. From, "Guess what? I got a new job!" to "Yes, I'm getting married!" We love gushing with effervescent enthusiasm that something good has happened to us. The stars have aligned, and for once, fate has bowed its head to me. 

Well, I currently don't have good news about my life (I don't have a new job or fiance, although I did meet Alexis Bledel and David Cross (lovingly known as Tobias on Arrested Development) which was pretty cool, but beside the point of this post) but I feel the same need to share good news about things I love and enjoy. Most notably, good books and good music. And this weekend, I was introduced to a new book (of poetry). 

Derrick C. Brown stole my heart from the moment I saw him (he's attractive). And then he stole my soul when he opened his mouth. He's unmercifully witty and honest. It's refreshing. His writing is penetrating. He manages to have you laughing one stanza and then grip your chest the next. Seeing him read his work made me wonder why poetry has never been done this way before. I've realized that a truly great poet, who can make you feel every emotion on the spectrum through a few words on a page, must have a thorough command over language. Language doesn't limit the poet's thoughts but are at his mercy. I wish I had that. As for now. I'll admire those who do. So even if poetry makes you cringe, give Derrick a try. You won't regret it. I'll even provide you with a sample or two.


Collide Escape

Whatever you dropped in the dark
can be recovered in the morning.

We will find the turquoise ring
that clutched the mud and grass
as I ripped your costly jeans,
down to your soft calves.

The night rain, beading upon your skinny spine.
If you were drunk, I didn't know.
You didn't say anything stupid.
Your tongue was blossoming,
pronouncing your kiss, cleanly.

I was glad your breath was hot enough
to melt the night resin off of me.
I read my hands down your simple gospel
and I no longer need 34th Street miracles.

Are you sure you want this mess?

I am a submarine
full of gasoline
and you're water proof matches.

I am suspended in the cinema of that moment
next to the house
collapsing in the dirt
where I needed you.

Fathom under fathoms,
that's how heavy I laid upon you.

What are you to me?

You are more than on my side,
You are the weapon on my side.
Safety off.

Rest under the shadow of my gut.
Unsentimental kissing.
A gushing reveille for strangers becoming victorious.

Walk through the valley of the 5 o'clock shadow.

Pyrokinetic honeysuckle, let's boycott the hocus pocus
and get straight to the secret . . . .
Are you the one snarling in the family photo?
Are you the one crackling voltage in the yearbook?
Then you are the pearl I steal.

Your eyes, a kaleidoscope of collide and escape.

Navigate to me by the map of fallen stars.

Love rises back to you
like an escalator fragrance.

All my devotion, compelled by an ocean

The holidays are over. I always love being home, seeing family and friends, but feel slightly displaced. Which is odd considering I've lived in the same house my entire life. Things have changed on Misty Court though. Besides my mom entirely redecorating the house, Missy is getting married. Kat is getting married. Katie might be moving to Dallas. At least my room still looks exactly the same, just collecting dust.

My mom always tells me, "the only thing certain in life is change." It's easy to say, but hard to accept. People are constantly in motion. Human beings aren't stagnant. We make choices, have desires, needs, ambitions, and goals that keep us working toward something better. 

As for me, I'm moving toward my career and being independent. I will be a college graduate this spring and cut off financially from my parents. And, as Katie Walker pointed out, I'm lucky to have a job lined up considering unemployment rates are at an all time high. I'll spend the summer in Quogue, West Hampton, be a full time nanny, and figure out where the hell I want to go to graduate school. But in order to get there, I have to survive my last semester at Kings. 12 hours of class. 8 hours as an intern. 20 hours of work. Every week. I won't have a social life unfortunately, but we all have to make sacrifices in order to get what we want. I'll be forced to appreciate quality time with good friends. I'm fairly certain I could live anywhere in the world as long as I have good friends to experience life and empathize with me.  

So we'll work until the night is quite

what once all our dreams were like;

doing all the housework,

returning all the schoolbooks, for good

Let's go on pretending that the light is never ending

we still have the summers

to be good to one another, yay hey

-All the Years by Beach House