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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I’m pretty sure cringe is the most modern poetic style Med-school freshman year is over - finals are over, and if they aren’t already forgotten they’re fading fast - my relief feels like achievement. We haven’t gotten our grades yet, but I’m full of aggressive patience and prom optimism. One suspects the grades will arrive soon, but if they’re bad, I hope they’ll have the decency to wait a couple more weeks. The thing is, I’m no longer spiraling! My moods changed from high-anxiety to summer itinerary. Peter (my bf) and I are swiping-right on freedom, messy as that is. Our mission is to re-write the entirely accurate school-year emotional-math, from studies 100, boyfriends 0. No more lectures, labs, and computer screen-time malaise, we’ll tackle the ‘loneliness epidemic’ in a hundred ways - because freedom always begins as a decision. We’re on our way to the sunny-fair beaches of Heraclee - on the French Riviera, where heaven’s in easy reach and life can unwind, unburdened by consequence. Our mornings will be sun splashed and surf-adjacent - I say, “If youth must be wasted, make it a littoral squandering.” In the evenings we’ll chase the dusk on rented bikes, and watch the local kids flying 3D, sculptured kites. There’s a rickety old merry-go-round that we can ride all night on garish, multicolored sea creatures from B-movie features. Busy Saint Tropez is right down the street (11 miles) where there’s a rainbow ferris-wheel lit by 160,000 LEDs, Hawaiian ices, neon lights, dance contests, and cotton candy. It’s very festival-like, and while music spills from local bars, we’ll sip umbrella’d concoctions under the stars. I’ll be wearing cheaply purchased, beach-merch tank-tops, that I didn’t own last week and I’ll donate in the fall, with prada silk-mini-skirts so short that they’re practically earrings - no fashion Interventions please. . . Songs for this: Hawt Heart by Born At Midnite Celebration Lover by Chuck Senrick Smash by Born At Midnite . . littoral = seashore
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