Thursday, May 28, 2009
I like it.
I've got to tell you
how I love you always
I think of it on grey
mornings with death
in my mouth the tea
is never hot enough
then and the cigarette
dry the maroon robe
chills me I need you
and look out the window
at the noiseless snow
At night on the dock
the buses glow like
clouds and I am lonely
thinking of flutes
I miss you always
when I go to the beach
the sand is wet with
tears that seem mine
although I never weep
and hold you in my
heart with a very real
humour you'd be proud of
the parking lot is
crowded and I stand
rattling my keys the car
is empty as a bicycle
what are you doing now
where did you eat your
lunch and were there
lots of anchovies it
is difficult to think
of you without me in
the sentence you depress
me when you are alone
Last night the stars
were numerous and today
snow is their calling
card I'll not be cordial
there is nothing that
distracts me music is
only a crossword puzzle
do you know how it is
when you are the only
passenger if there is a
place further from me
I beg you do not go
Frank O'Hara [1926-1966], 'Morning'
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Focus
When you listen to God/Instincts/that inner voice inside of you, there's no way you can be wrong.
What I hoped would happen in regards to my finances has happened because, well, I trusted in that inner voices, and out of nowhere, a way has been made without a refund check. A man who labors will reap the rewards he seeks.
I'm re-reading Go Tell it on the Mountain by James Baldwin because the first time I read it, I was too young, and while I remember it being greatly influential at the time, I didn't have the life experiences to really put what I learned into practice. The desperation the main characters feel when they must confront how to best handle their worldly instincts with those aligned to a higher purpose is present to me in several ways, currently my battle with quitting smoking, which I've failed to do. Although I know that in the long run smoking has no positive benefits whatsoever, it's remarkable that the urge to puff is so ingrained in my daily rituals that a day without cigs is unthinkable. Quite literally, a strong agitation grips me when I see the last two or three cigs in the box, and I start to calculate whether the final ones will get me through the night, whether I'll have to run by the store, or just how long will I have to wait before lung cancer/emphesyma/poverty force me out of my habit.
The higher purpose of what I should do is without a doubt more beneficial, yet the pull of the nicotine, the image I can project, and the habits reinforced by the cigarette are so alluring it's hard to put them down. A similar instance takes place in the book where John, a young boy brow-beaten by his parent's religious fanaticism, stands on top of a hill, gazing down at the city before him. He sees the perils of Hell throughout the city, but cannot resist descending into the belly of the town, watching a worldly moving, and identifying so deeply with the woman in the film who so proudly sticks it to everyone who knows her. I so got it, and James Baldwin's queerness saturates his writing, crafting beautiful scenarios and descriptions with which I easily identify.
---
I'm trying to learn Korean, but dammit, I have trouble remembering the vocab. This has never been a problem in the beginning stages of any language I've studied. Any suggestions on what I should do?
+_+_+
What I hoped would happen in regards to my finances has happened because, well, I trusted in that inner voices, and out of nowhere, a way has been made without a refund check. A man who labors will reap the rewards he seeks.
I'm re-reading Go Tell it on the Mountain by James Baldwin because the first time I read it, I was too young, and while I remember it being greatly influential at the time, I didn't have the life experiences to really put what I learned into practice. The desperation the main characters feel when they must confront how to best handle their worldly instincts with those aligned to a higher purpose is present to me in several ways, currently my battle with quitting smoking, which I've failed to do. Although I know that in the long run smoking has no positive benefits whatsoever, it's remarkable that the urge to puff is so ingrained in my daily rituals that a day without cigs is unthinkable. Quite literally, a strong agitation grips me when I see the last two or three cigs in the box, and I start to calculate whether the final ones will get me through the night, whether I'll have to run by the store, or just how long will I have to wait before lung cancer/emphesyma/poverty force me out of my habit.
The higher purpose of what I should do is without a doubt more beneficial, yet the pull of the nicotine, the image I can project, and the habits reinforced by the cigarette are so alluring it's hard to put them down. A similar instance takes place in the book where John, a young boy brow-beaten by his parent's religious fanaticism, stands on top of a hill, gazing down at the city before him. He sees the perils of Hell throughout the city, but cannot resist descending into the belly of the town, watching a worldly moving, and identifying so deeply with the woman in the film who so proudly sticks it to everyone who knows her. I so got it, and James Baldwin's queerness saturates his writing, crafting beautiful scenarios and descriptions with which I easily identify.
---
I'm trying to learn Korean, but dammit, I have trouble remembering the vocab. This has never been a problem in the beginning stages of any language I've studied. Any suggestions on what I should do?
+_+_+
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Graduate
I'm a college graduate. Yay.
I mean, HALLELUJAH~!
Having anticipated something for so long, it's great to see it realized because only a few weeks ago everything was shrouded in impossibilities. At times, I wasn't sure I would complete the semester, much less with anything considered to be "passing." But, I did, and I'm grateful. So very grateful.
In preparation for the next stop on the journey of life, I'm spending my entire summer working to procure money for a program I'm not really sure I'll enjoy, far away from the people I love in a city I'm kind of ambivalent about (which is a step up from the hate I felt towards it a few weeks ago), yet standing at this precipice, I feel the fear that comes when one is prepared to start something new, and being used to the emotion, I take it in stride.
My friends are adults now, and I guess college was the last step before reaching true adulthood. I don't feel anymore mature, just more powerful, like no one has the power to take anything away from me that I don't willingly give them. It's a great place to be, because being accountable only to myself and God, the possibilities of life are limitless if I work harder. Wow.
I mean, HALLELUJAH~!
Having anticipated something for so long, it's great to see it realized because only a few weeks ago everything was shrouded in impossibilities. At times, I wasn't sure I would complete the semester, much less with anything considered to be "passing." But, I did, and I'm grateful. So very grateful.
In preparation for the next stop on the journey of life, I'm spending my entire summer working to procure money for a program I'm not really sure I'll enjoy, far away from the people I love in a city I'm kind of ambivalent about (which is a step up from the hate I felt towards it a few weeks ago), yet standing at this precipice, I feel the fear that comes when one is prepared to start something new, and being used to the emotion, I take it in stride.
My friends are adults now, and I guess college was the last step before reaching true adulthood. I don't feel anymore mature, just more powerful, like no one has the power to take anything away from me that I don't willingly give them. It's a great place to be, because being accountable only to myself and God, the possibilities of life are limitless if I work harder. Wow.
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