Untitled — 8/30/24
The drooping, wistful, lush green willows hanging over me are a constant
through summer, winter, autumn, and spring
as I watch their crisp, golden green leaves falling
as they downwardly spiral to the ground hitting the concrete
The warm, spicy scent of baked goods, steamed tofu, and roasted vegetables coated in tomatoey, umami sauces surrounds me,
and I slightly raise my chin up to the deep blue sky and reflect on the ins and outs day
what made me happy
and what brought me pain
and decide to take actions once more or never again
As I zoom across the pavement,
the sound of human chatter and machinery clatter and the whoosh of passerby cars enter my ears,
and I continue to march forward in bliss,
free, untamed, energetic, and without fear
Untitled — 8/30/24
My outfits and accessories are like shiny, knightly, spiff, and heavy armor
They keep me safe from swords, daggers, arrows, and guns,
and I remove them when the day-out is done just as soldiers relinquish themselves of the restrictive burden when the battle is won
These pieces, however, subtract from one’s energy immensely
For what I gain of charisma or power, I lose in the speed of molecules in brain and body substantially
When they are removed, I exhale a balmy sigh of relief and freedom
It is almost as if I am caged by my own kingdom
After escaping into the wilderness that outskirts, separated from duty, political intrigue, affluence, and ambition,
I find that self-care and self-development become the new main mission
Now, you might ask, well why can’t one have fun on days out too?
Well, that is because you always have to mitigate and quell risk from other people attempting to take advantage of you
In a selfish, competitive world where it is every human being for themselves,
how would I feel soothing, sparkly, and life-giving bliss and peace when I’m inserted into a fiery, rotten, vicious hell?
There are always pockets of people, of course, that deviate from the standard
Even then, personally, unless they are family, there is always a chance that they could become a hazard
Thus, as friends, not just strangers, can be foes
I must always remain on my toes
and put on my armor clothes
Untitled — 9/2/24
Stop, cower, and freeze—
that’s my motto for bees
You would think that, as a human, I should be able to battle mini-creatures and buggy daredevils with relative ease
Unfortunately, for me however, old fixed patterns of startling fears and quivering concerns within the presence of mighty behemoth organisms as large as your fingernail prevent bug life from being a breeze
My lived-in-India, in the residence of lizards, snakes, spiders, and flees family members will, of course, point at me and laugh and tease
Meanwhile, I’m silently motioning to the cretinous creature to get up and leave please
Thankfully I’ve found a handy dandy electrifier,
so all of what I just mentioned is no longer a problem that I consider dire
Life — 10/21/24
Life is such a fickle construct
It’s fragile and ephemeral
I watch it teeter in the wind—a delicate rose
I want to care for it
I want to help it grow
I want to sprinkle potions upon its sharp, green body and scented, thin petals to make it last forever
I want to turn it immortal
I know though, that if I do, I will appreciate it no longer—it will no longer be my treasure
Thus, life is fickle,
and I must observe it shrivel
It's so hard to be me — 10/24/24
It's so hard to be me
I find myself oscillating between two communities
It's so hard to please
I want to satisfy two objectives that sometimes feel like antitheses
How can I grapple with ambivalence?
I end up just feeling like a mess
I can’t be stuck in entropy
when I have a bar that I need to exceed
My heart crinkles, crumbles, and caves in
Both arms keep stretching and stretching but neither can ever touch the people; they’re eminent
I want to be the highest on the mountain, but, instead, I’m rock-climbing by the bottom,
about to fall into another oblivion of doom, shame, and gloom
So, to the books I run
leaving the bed of procrustes behind,
deciding to make my own space and control my own life
I Press Play — 10/31/24
These people lead glitzy and glamorous lives
While I find myself stuck
Wedged between wealth and just plain middle class
Grossly intelligent and just plain average
Simplicity, however, becomes the scat that they don’t want to step on
I become the crusty, filthy, old pizza
No one wants to take a bite out of that one
I struggle to grasp the edges of crumbling stairs
There’s nothing above or below me
I’m stuck
Hanging in empty space
Instead of searching within and
unlocking the piece of me that I need to
fly up to the castle on the cloud that I want to reach
A level of unparalleled excellency in polymathy
I look outwards
to him
As if he is Him
As if he is a God
It’s my subconscious trying to escape
Into a person who in many ways is great
He has what I want to be
Regardless of if he does or does not like me
I am distracted
I need to move on
I need to fold in but fold out my feathers
I press play
I want to go go go
I want to leap into tomorrow
Instead of moving onto the next song
I’m stuck
In rewind on a song filled with pining, frustration, shame, embarrassment, and sorrow
Information floats around
Some just within reach
Others far above me
I anxiously try to collect them in my hands
Clinging onto them like my last hopes
Only to see them disintegrate the next day
Hope is lost
Hope isn’t real
I don’t have enough time
I’m in a cage
Black bars surround me as I grip the stair
Towering, thick, metallic, and claustrophobic
They push out swirling clusters of data
Boxing me off from opportunity
They begin to suck out my energy
Like manipulative leeches
They claim to bring me benefit
A standardized education
A clear path to career
These are constraints
I want out
I want to make my own way
But something else latches me into place
I’m stuck
A hand shakes my shoulder
It screams
MONEY
It screams
MONEY
It
I press play
Untitled — 11/30/24
Lavender and pale orange skies
filled with thin, whispy white
I want to snatch a piece of fluff and take a bite;
chomping down on a piece of it like a cracker,
yet its texture like cotton
Life can't get any wackier
Burnt orange flames crackle at my feet
as I walk on the cold, hard, rugged ivory concrete
The blanket above my head turns a violent violet
as the ice in the air sends daggers through my skin, turning it scarlet
Poem Script for College Application Video (un-submitted; draft) — 12/24/2024
Let me tell you a thought, a story, a dream
I looked upon re:Duke reddit one day and was shocked to find
Information that blew my mind
When I read
quote they must’ve left my essay score blank because of the advent of chatgpt
I tried to comfort myself: Sera don’t allow such external stimuli to control what you do
But I realized, with the amount of controversy AI’s created this could totally be true
Apprehension and anxiety are sometimes healthy, necessary
They act as trigger cues for performing well, especially when things get hairy
Plus, I see you
Heaps of applications piled upon your desk
Exhausted, burn-out, yet still wanting what’s best for youth
It’s hard
You begin to question due to news
Whether anything they say is real, is anything really true?
I’m not here to be anti-AI or anti-AO
Part of the reason I sit in front of you
is to beseech you AO, admission officer, you beautiful HUMAN BEING
To read OUR essays
We implore you let us be seen
Of course, I’m also in this moment trying to show you my mien
What’s that word MIEN you ask
Remember, I told you I read the dictionary
Every time I write, I’m somewhat scared that you’ll choose not to believe me
I’m worried my truths will be warped into lies
That my creativity, my voice, my poeticness I pride will be replaced with Oh she must’ve used AI
I desperately sing
Your hand I try to take
But then I think what if they say even my vocals are deep faked
Even if I get rejected from this university
I hope you’ll remember me
I know how much you care
So, I ask you to please consider the written stories we share
I hope you don’t see this as a rant but rather an echo amongst my peers I felt was important to tell
And I hope you learned about me in this time capsule of self, as I bid you farewell
I’m Sera
I hope this message finds you well
Close yet Distant — 2/06/2025
Close yet distant
Arms, hands, legs brush against each other, faint yet pronounced
In my mind, sparks fly
It’s polluted by my old habit of using romantic fantasy to fill a void—
It won’t die no matter how hard I try
Close yet distant
Once upon a time, I truly felt the tug of a red string tying me to him
I think, now, it’s taut, on the verge of shattering into a million shards stabbing my chest painfully
I’m distraught
Should I try to mend, make amends, become, at least, friends—
What are we? Let’s set boundaries. I liked, I like, I’m overthinking—stop
Close yet distant
The mindsets, mental algorithms, habits I once had are starting to drift away, fall apart
I fear I’ve misused my time—choosing to fit inside the societal conventions instead of smashing boxes
I want to restart
I wish I could be as smart as the few
Despite having awareness of the various nuances leading to their acumen, I spiral further and further
Close yet distant
Untitled — 2/11/2025
I decided to open my heart
That’s when I fell apart
I made friends with a leech in attempts to feel connected to him
I started deviating from the structure I’d worked tirelessly to carve into my life, acting on a whim
Now, I have no horses and men to put myself together again
Instead, I try to search within, trying to mend, to make amends
There are no more escapes
I am free
What do I prefer? — 2/11/2025
Breaking out of fixed patterns
Breaking stereotypes and convention, seeing them shatter
Breaking, many people say, is easy
Making is hard
I agree; I don’t agree
I’d have to master society’s truths before I can propagate my thinking
I hold onto romantic feelings, feeding them until they become an addiction
I let go of dreams because I think I’m not good enough with conviction
Like almost everything in life, there is contextuality
Letting go, holding on, breaking, making can create positivity, negativity, and neutrality
I know about situational relevance
I’m well acquainted with bias, habit, learning, decision-making, yet I treat them like appurtenances—
Secondary to a desire to blend in under the guise of networking and opportunities
Considering my goals, it has merit, but it does not align with my current priorities
Yet, my rankings are blurred
What do I prefer?
A War Between the Intrinsic and the Extrinsic — 3/22/2025
Will I waste my life away,
crumpling myself up into tight boxes
with sharp edges like cliffs that make hearts drop?
Blotting out my unconventionality for a few million claps and cheers—for no sniffs and sobs,
Erasing my ephemeral consciousness for the everlasting, ever-enticing spider-web
My agency in the matter is already lost
I find myself gravitating towards former, forbidden—formerly forbidden—thoughts
To perform excellently, consistently, is—is not—the goal
What matters—does it?—is feeling whole