Overextended

"It's personal, myself and I, we've got some straightening out to do." -Fergie

Work and.......... I can't find what the "struggles sessions" are in the Chinese text,
I can't go through Mam Phys without feeling depressed,
I can't go to hear poetry without seeing a devil,
that I am over, should be over, somewhat over,
I've been fine so much that it's time my anxiety acts up,
and the anxiety is full force.
Internships, then a lab to write up, a session to go to
making my incompetence evident,
midterm, miderm, paper.... as
I'm reading,
writing down scattered thoughts,
I don't see what a "Struggle Session" could be
besides this.
And he's sitting next to white women,
typical
As black women are pouring their hearts out on the stage
ironic
And I thought I never could be angry about this
unfortunate
I need to focus to do better on mam phys,
I opened my e-mail and Reunion.com sends me shit
about J. Madrey,
maybe I had too little sleep,
too much coffee, performance anxiety, damn I know what a thyroid is,
and what hormones do
I'm reading the words but my mind is glazing through,
it's not registering these "struggle sessions"

Go back to let water cleanse my tired joints,
And a body dirty from thoughts of inferiority,
insecurities which creep up with intriguing insistence,
When I think I'm fine just to see this week creep up,
And go back to Miller's street where I hope I'm not alone.
Which becomes the redundant story that steers the wheel to my being
sometimes.
And to think I thought I was too busy to think.
I write this, I suppose because I'm a little love sick.

I have two midterms to study for, so it's going to be yet another long night, and I have to write a 400 word biography on MYSELF hmmmm, intriguing, how shall describe MYSELF to the Colby college website browsing community? But the reason I wrote this "whatever came into my head sporadically" poem last night was because Dana Gilmore blessed Colby with her presence. The environment in the room, the spoken word, the students who read poetry, were all amazing, very empowering for women's history month. And the place was full, which is nice- so even though my little rant is quite horrendous compared to her poetry, it definitely released some much needed anxiety last night as I did not do as well as I had hoped on a test.

I don't know; it brings me back down the ground when I realize that unconsciously my tone turned cold. This used to happen all the time a couple of years back, so the best plan would've been to not pick up the phone at all because I can't stand myself that way. When I see someone several times, and I don't say "hi, how are you?" Or even when I respond with a "hi, how are you?" that doesn't sound welcoming, or I walk away without saying bye, without commenting on their page for weeks. The page is deliberative, but none of the others are, so even if day by day it matters less, shouldn't that mean I should be kind, be me and not sound..... cold or bitter and like I'm thinking "why are you even talking to me?". I should stop analyzing things like little turns, and glances, and greetings..... and just take them as accidental coincidence. I should've ignored the side of my head and focused completely on Dana Gilmore because my analyses of my visions occasionally lies. But regardless of what it means, it's (likely) lack of meaning... I don't know,
if one was over me a long time ago,
then let him be...
without the pressure of being kind and acknowledgment and forced conversations,
and awkward meetings in the street....
I'm fine.... all these things only make analyze things unnecessary
I don't want anyone to feel bad.