Posts tagged ‘College’

Hostel Environment

written Fall 2005

I hate small talk, but it was the only thing to really do in the Prague youth hostel lounges. Same questions. Different (yet all too similar) people. Same answers. But when someone asked me about my interests at one point, I mentioned running for the team. And defining (or even just describing) myself as a runner suddenly felt like a lie. The “I am ____” statements have always been so loaded and limiting, but I felt all too aware of such limitations that day. After identifying as an athlete and, specifically, as a distance runner for so long, I was rather stunned at how distant I felt from the sport and my team.

And then I looked down at my running shirt and realized it said Y-A-L-E, and I felt like describing myself as a Yale student was, in some respects, an outright falsehood. Sure, we all have that sense of “the assumptions people make about me only because I go to an Ivy League school are so annoying and inaccurate” or “do I even meet up to people’s preconceptions (read: misconceptions) concerning colleges like Yale?” But this was deeper. I felt as though I was lying to myself. Like certain aspects of the past three years have been an absolute prevarication. I have always thought climbing a steep uphill was the only way to reach the “top.” My legs hurt literally and figuratively. Indeed, I have begun to lose my endurance to climb up the ambiguous ladder of success.

For the past few months, I have really thought about whether or not I want to run for the team this year, and that weekend in the Sir Toby’s youth hostel prompted extensive contemplation. The team served as an amazing support network for quite some time, and the shift in dynamics and atmosphere prevents me from fully benefiting from that positive reinforcement. It would be unfair of me to propagate negative energy, and I am definitely taking fond memories and true friendships with me as I “leave” this close-knit community. I have always been known for my honesty, yet I have felt untrue to myself for too long. I am looking forward to eventually reacquainting myself with a sincere love for the sport. For lack of time and, more importantly, a sense of discretion, I will not further expound upon these issues in email format. However, feel free to get in touch with me if you have any questions, exciting news, or even gentle gossip :-). Thank you for sharing a significant portion of my time and passion over the past three years. Good luck with the season and all your future endeavors.

Love Always,
LD

January 1, 2009 at 11:12 pm 1 comment

I Didn’t Mean to Be Mean

I didn’t mean to be mean
When I screamed, when I wept
I didn’t want to be wanted
I just needed to be kept
I’m so used to being used
Your pure intentions
Are abuse
If you’d struck me, if you’d fuck me
You’re like the others –
Cold but lucky

It was simple being easy
So I blame you
When you please me
For saving me from deadly habits
That die hard
For making me smile
For taking me far
Far from here
Far from blue
Further from home
Furthest from you
So, to that end, I must implore:
If you hated me
Would I love you more?

Disparate but never desperate
We’re violently in love
As luck would have it

December 19, 2008 at 9:38 pm 4 comments

Excerpt from “Those Bright College Years”

“Where do you go to school?”

“In the Northeast.”

“Where in the Northeast?”

“Connecticut.”

“Where in Connecticut?”

“New Haven.”

“What college do you go to?”

“Oh…Yale.”

“What?”

“Yale.”

“Did you say Yale?”

“Yeah.”

“Yale?!”

“Yale.”

“Wow…you must be smart.  How do you like it there?”

“Um…”

I knew I could cut such a conversation in half by providing the answer outright, but I felt rather embarrassed to reveal my college’s identity.  And there’s something about the slight inflection that automatically occurs at the end of that monosyllabic word that makes it difficult to understand, awkward at best (Harvard” and “Princeton” roll off the tongue much more easily).  I also resented the superficial expectations that came with such a confession and the predictability of the entire dialogue to follow.  Uncomfortable throughout, I feared sounding arrogant or insincerely modest.  An unavoidable sense of pride always lined my end of the interrogation, and I highly resented my inability to avoid that inner half-smile.  After months of half-heartedly responding that my Yale experience was “alright,” I finally decided to tell the truth.

October 30, 2008 at 6:20 am 2 comments

Reprise

WARNING: Some people may take offense to the sexually-explicit language in this entry.

(written May 2006)

Save the applause
For someone more eager
Like the fake lesbians or
Half-assed whores
The ugly girls
Who think they’re hot
(They really exist)

I’ll not field any questions
Concerning my curt departure
Or participate in
Nostalgic fucks
I masturbate with sandpaper
These days
And choke on my own vomit
(You’ve washed your hands of me
Don’t soil them again
With my human stain)

Farewell, faithful voyeur
You fast-forwarded to the
Gratuitous sex scenes
But didn’t stick around for
The after-after-party

So let the credits roll
And skip the encore
Because – let’s face it –
Neither of us wants a
Repeat performance.

September 18, 2008 at 6:15 am 1 comment

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