Read this. Think about it. I, for one, am tired of my future being squandered by irresponsible elitists.
I’d rather be in your bed.
from Orange Girl
|The orange-girl is generally allowed to enter an auction-store, for auctioneers are mortal, and sometimes eat oranges|
I’m stone and citrus, like policemen’s wives.
you’re an emerald, buried in dark clothes.
your eyes leaf, bone.
your fingers so many songs
out of tune
The kick in the gonads moment when you realize just how poor you are.
Brought to you by: your W-2s.
(This year is going to be pretty much exactly the same, too.)
Since 1999, student debt has increased more than 500 percent, yet the average starting salary for graduates has dropped 10 percent, adjusted for inflation. Student debts can’t be cancelled in bankruptcy. A default brings penalties and ruins a credit rating. To make matters worse, the job market for new graduates remains lousy. Which is why record numbers are still living at home.
The dying have a quality that even a child senses. Not because they are already removed, but because even young hearts sense their inability to stay longer. Behind the looks of sickness or fear is also the look of the long-distance traveler, bags on the floor, eyes tired but nervous for any change that may come. They are the ones going on the twenty-hour flights, and although we don’t envy their coming discomfort or time-zone skips, tomorrow they will be there - a place that both terrifies and thrills us. We peek at the ticket they hold, the inconceivably far destination written there, impossible yet monstrously alluring. What will it smell like for them tomorrow? What is it like to sleep there?
Real facts: If I don’t get out of Roanoke soon, I think I’m going to destroy the greatest thing I’ve ever done.