It's this feeling - quelling up in the narrow passage way, blocking the motion of the passing fluids - that keeps coming back again. The indecision to move, to follow natural instinct - divided like a highway, each path leading in a separate direction. Lying here, head back, resting in the cool damp of morning, looking for a clearing; the answer comes and flees, flying on the winds like the white, dandelion seeds surrounding.
Pulling like a brick hanging from a string, the weight of vacillation spreading, concentrated on these single, quivering threads. Slowly, the fibers fraying, the taut isolation overwhelmed by its predecessor. Strong and steady from a distance, even unmoving. Close. Closer the inspector comes. Closer to view the truth -
tangibility, obscurity
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Drowning
**Disclaimer: This post will be horridly negative.
For no real reason, today has been such a rough day. And it's only 10:35am. Wow. Off to a great start.
Lets start with the wake-up routine: I got up at 8:20, class starts at 8:30 and is about half an hour away by car. Awesome. No shower, no makeup; wet the bangs down and brush the teeth. I'm sure I look stunning in all the right ways. By the time I get to class, it's about 9:05. Cool. Thirty-five minutes late to a class that I absolutely dread and because of this hatred am probably going to manage a C for. Oh, that reminds me, it's totally a high school level literature course, too. Sooo... that just bolsters my desire to be in school.
After one of the best weekends I've had in who knows how long, I finally started in on homework, yesterday. Ben had work from 8-5 so I figured I'd get it all done within that span - wrong. I fully took advantage of the opportunity to read for pleasure and not for academia, spending a good couple of hours entrenched in a fabulous fantasy epic. By the time he got home, there were still hours of homework left to be finished. Well... Let's just say that I did all that I needed to for the class that had work due that night... and not much else. Including the assignment due for this morning. I figured I'd get up early to do it. We've already heard what time I got up - no chance that it got done. No chance that it was handed in. My fault, I won't deny that, but it definitely adds to the situation.
Which brings me to my final point: I feel like I'm drowning. I'm attending a school that I absolutely hate, yearning for UVU and all of my old professors who are actually educated beyond the degree I'm currently seeking - surprise, surprise. I miss courses that don't make you feel as though you're still sitting in Mrs. Wright's 11th grade English class, begrudgingly discussing the last piece of literature that was assigned and yet no one read. I'm tired of being surrounded by kids that refuse to shower, not because they're making some sort of indie stand in proof of their moral standings, but because they never learned proper hygiene. I'm sick of hearing opinions that are postulated strictly from narrow mindsets and hints given from a tyrannical professor. I'm done with the high school kids that literally skip around campus, thinking themselves 3 species classes higher than those they pass because they were on their way to earning their diploma and weren't going to finish with a GED.
I'm not necessarily done with being in school, because ultimately I'm in love with my degree, but I am done with this awful semester. In fact, I'm so homesick for UVU, today, that I actually went back to their site to see if I could go ahead and register for summer semester, yet. Evidently registration isn't ready yet - maybe no one else is as eager as I am?
I feel like I'm drowning in the negative feelings I hold against this place. I feel like I'm submerging into the depths of unproductivity and disdain for academic learning or meaningful thought processes. I feel like I could never express how I truly feel to the fullest with this growing blockage in my mind stopping great lengths of thought.
For no real reason, today has been such a rough day. And it's only 10:35am. Wow. Off to a great start.
Lets start with the wake-up routine: I got up at 8:20, class starts at 8:30 and is about half an hour away by car. Awesome. No shower, no makeup; wet the bangs down and brush the teeth. I'm sure I look stunning in all the right ways. By the time I get to class, it's about 9:05. Cool. Thirty-five minutes late to a class that I absolutely dread and because of this hatred am probably going to manage a C for. Oh, that reminds me, it's totally a high school level literature course, too. Sooo... that just bolsters my desire to be in school.
After one of the best weekends I've had in who knows how long, I finally started in on homework, yesterday. Ben had work from 8-5 so I figured I'd get it all done within that span - wrong. I fully took advantage of the opportunity to read for pleasure and not for academia, spending a good couple of hours entrenched in a fabulous fantasy epic. By the time he got home, there were still hours of homework left to be finished. Well... Let's just say that I did all that I needed to for the class that had work due that night... and not much else. Including the assignment due for this morning. I figured I'd get up early to do it. We've already heard what time I got up - no chance that it got done. No chance that it was handed in. My fault, I won't deny that, but it definitely adds to the situation.
Which brings me to my final point: I feel like I'm drowning. I'm attending a school that I absolutely hate, yearning for UVU and all of my old professors who are actually educated beyond the degree I'm currently seeking - surprise, surprise. I miss courses that don't make you feel as though you're still sitting in Mrs. Wright's 11th grade English class, begrudgingly discussing the last piece of literature that was assigned and yet no one read. I'm tired of being surrounded by kids that refuse to shower, not because they're making some sort of indie stand in proof of their moral standings, but because they never learned proper hygiene. I'm sick of hearing opinions that are postulated strictly from narrow mindsets and hints given from a tyrannical professor. I'm done with the high school kids that literally skip around campus, thinking themselves 3 species classes higher than those they pass because they were on their way to earning their diploma and weren't going to finish with a GED.
I'm not necessarily done with being in school, because ultimately I'm in love with my degree, but I am done with this awful semester. In fact, I'm so homesick for UVU, today, that I actually went back to their site to see if I could go ahead and register for summer semester, yet. Evidently registration isn't ready yet - maybe no one else is as eager as I am?
I feel like I'm drowning in the negative feelings I hold against this place. I feel like I'm submerging into the depths of unproductivity and disdain for academic learning or meaningful thought processes. I feel like I could never express how I truly feel to the fullest with this growing blockage in my mind stopping great lengths of thought.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
To Julia de Burgos
by Julia de Burgos
Already the people murmur that I am your enema
because they say that in verse I give the world your me.
They lie, Julia de Burgos. They lie, Julia de Burgos.
Who rises in my verses is not my voice. It is my voice
because you are the dressing and the essence is me;
and the most profound abyss is spread between us.
You are the cold doll of social lies,
and me, the virile starburst of the human truth.
You, honey of courtesan hypocrisies; not me;
in all my poems I undress my heart.
You are like your world, selfish; not me
who gambles everything betting on what I am.
You are only the ponderous lady very lady;
not me; I am life, strength, woman.
You belong to your husband, your master; not me;
I belong to nobody, or all, because to all, to all
I give myself in my clean feeling and in my thought.
You curl your hair and paint yourself; not me;
the wind curls my hair, the sun paints me.
You are a housewife, resigned, submissive,
tied to the prejudices of men; not me;
unbridled, I am a runaway Rocinante
snorting horizons of God’s justice.
You in yourself have no say; everyone governs you;
your husband, your parents, your family,
the priest, the dressmaker, the theatre, the dance hall,
the auto, the fine furnishings, the feast, champagne,
heaven and hell, and the social, “what will they say”.
Not in me, in me only my heart governs,
only my thought; who governs in me is me.
You, flower of aristocracy; and me, flower of the people.
You in you have everything and you owe it to everyone,
while me, my nothing I owe to nobody.
You nailed to the static ancestral dividend,
and me, a one in the numerical social divider,
we are the duel to death who fatally approaches.
When the multitude run rioting
leaving behind ashes of burned injustices,
and with the torch of the seven virtues,
the multitudes run after the seven sins,
against you and against everything unjust and inhuman,
I will be in their midst with the torch in my hand.
Already the people murmur that I am your enema
because they say that in verse I give the world your me.
They lie, Julia de Burgos. They lie, Julia de Burgos.
Who rises in my verses is not my voice. It is my voice
because you are the dressing and the essence is me;
and the most profound abyss is spread between us.
You are the cold doll of social lies,
and me, the virile starburst of the human truth.
You, honey of courtesan hypocrisies; not me;
in all my poems I undress my heart.
You are like your world, selfish; not me
who gambles everything betting on what I am.
You are only the ponderous lady very lady;
not me; I am life, strength, woman.
You belong to your husband, your master; not me;
I belong to nobody, or all, because to all, to all
I give myself in my clean feeling and in my thought.
You curl your hair and paint yourself; not me;
the wind curls my hair, the sun paints me.
You are a housewife, resigned, submissive,
tied to the prejudices of men; not me;
unbridled, I am a runaway Rocinante
snorting horizons of God’s justice.
You in yourself have no say; everyone governs you;
your husband, your parents, your family,
the priest, the dressmaker, the theatre, the dance hall,
the auto, the fine furnishings, the feast, champagne,
heaven and hell, and the social, “what will they say”.
Not in me, in me only my heart governs,
only my thought; who governs in me is me.
You, flower of aristocracy; and me, flower of the people.
You in you have everything and you owe it to everyone,
while me, my nothing I owe to nobody.
You nailed to the static ancestral dividend,
and me, a one in the numerical social divider,
we are the duel to death who fatally approaches.
When the multitude run rioting
leaving behind ashes of burned injustices,
and with the torch of the seven virtues,
the multitudes run after the seven sins,
against you and against everything unjust and inhuman,
I will be in their midst with the torch in my hand.
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