stuff i wrote for the pace chronicle because i am so awesome and beautiful

Sep19

newest first
The New York Art Scene’s Best Kept Secrets: October 6, 2022
Destigmatizing Wellness at Pace and Beyond: October 11, 2022
Meet Her at Midnight — A Track by Track Review of Taylor Swift’s Newest Album, Midnights: October 31, 2022

anxiety baby

Aug29

i’m not sure if this is a journal entry or a poem, but here goes nothing.

i think you’re so cool. you really give a damn, and i think that’s awesome. when i think of you, i think about how much i miss you. but, in eight days, i will get to see you again. eight fucking days. that’s like hanukkah, but for the heart. i am SO anxious. like, i want to see you. i want to say hi. i want to surprise you on your birthday and somehow not have that be weird or awkward that i know what your birthday is (but don’t blame me, blame the athletics department! they posted it. not me. the only things i post are blog entries.) i wish you knew how awesome i think you are. you have a fucking job. at school. that’s awesome. yes, i have been watching a little too much how i met your mother lately, so pardon the barney-isms. at least i fought the urge to call you legendary.

watching himym reminds me of how much i miss my friends. i miss hanging out with them and talking about the drama we have to report on for the chronicle (super secret goss, sorry b.) i know i write a lot to you. it’s a little weird, yes. but i thought i’d stop sending you emails you’re not going to read and instead post blog entries for other people to read. i don’t want the people at the gym reading my emotional messages to the boy i like. man? guy? i don’t know. you’re almost nineteen. what’s that? or are you almost twenty? i actually don’t know.

there’s a lot i don’t know about you. i wish i did. i wish i knew what made you want to do what you want to do in life. outlook says your major is ‘health sciences’ but hell if i know what that means. i want to know how you got into basketball. was it because of your dad? does your dad like basketball? what is that logo for? the one on your beanie and the sticker on your laptop. i noticed it the first time i saw you. and your eyes. i noticed how blue they were. are. who has blue eyes in your family? are these questions weird? being autistic definitely affects the things i want to know about people. i want to know the middle name of literally everyone i have ever met. middle names are cool. i know nothing about yours. except for what classes and outlook tell me; it starts with d. i feel like i’ll just end up building all this suspense and then you’ll tell me it’s david. which is my dad’s name. i don’t know how i’d feel about that.

there is one question, though, that is apparently what will make or break the state of our relationship. (in a general sense, not necessarily a romantic relationship). would you ever consider going out with me? i was told by someone much wiser and more experienced than i am that this is the first question i should ask before i get it in my head that we have any sort of romantic chemistry. being your friend would be absolutely amazing, but i’d like to know if there’s any more to our story– if there is an “our story”. so, b, when i see you next week, say hi. just hi. anything else is up to you, but i’d really appreciate a greeting. okay, bye, b. you’re the coolest. in the geekiest, smartest way, you’re awesome. keep being awesome (and i don’t mean that in an awkwardly signing your yearbook in seventh grade because i might have unresolved feelings for you kind of way).

it’s you that made me this way

Feb28

do you think i expected to fall for you?
hold the door and somehow you’re mine?
of course, i knew i liked your face
but how could i have predicted this?
the green sweater, the smile
you won me over so fast
for days i’ve thought only of you
distraction times one thousand
number twenty three and me
somehow it just seems right
i look in the mirror at my lovelorn eyes
and wonder how i became so smitten
it’s obvious, though
that all it took was you
it’s you that made me this way.

get some medicine for that ego babe, it’s swelling up

Oct25

you’re so funny, thinking your invitation, if at that, to a senior’s party makes you cool. far from it, actually. it makes you just as washed up as them, just four years too early. you think if they’re partying now, just weeks away from midterms, that those are the people that’re going to end up affluent and intelligent? oh honey. i suppose i’ve made it rather clear how much i despise you. though for the sake of your dear old mom and dad, i sincerely hope you don’t get hit in the head with a basketball at the next game. oh how dreadful it would be if both your academic and athletic careers were to go up in flames in the same year. all of you. this is no targeted attack, mind you. i despise each and every one of you “athletes” and your little girlfriends, too. although, i hold out hope for them, as their naïvety is not a result of your “effortless good looks” or “charm”, both of which are highly subjective and quite frankly, insignificant in the grander scheme of things. what are you going to be at 40? dead of a highly preventable heart attack? married to your second wife, a twenty-three-year-old named everleigh? estranged from your several children due to your insufferable tendencies to dwell on the past, your glory days long over? get your head out of your ass and take a good look around. this is your life. don’t mess it up. nobody will feel sorry for you when you do. and that’s a when. not an if. unless you get your asshole personalities sorted out, you’ll just be sad, old losers who peaked in high school and rode that high for way too long. rethink your damn priorities. this, you see, is not it. chances are you’d never have made it into a place like this without your disposable athletic abilities. you’re injured? replaced. you’re rude to the coach? replaced. nothing you do matters. make it matter. or else there’s a 100% chance your life will be boring and fake and repetitive for the next forty-some-odd years you manage to not die.