Episode 4.13 - "SLEEP"
With the end of the semester only a month away and a yearbook deadline getting closer and CLOSER, I've been spending most of my nights couped up in the SPECTRUM office typing away in front of a blinding 17" monitor only to end up stumbling around campus at 4 in the morning like the living dead until I finally slither into bed LITERALLY 15 minutes before my roommate's first alarm goes off. *takes huge breath* Longest. Sentence. Ever. ;-D
Now enrolled in my third romanticism course (Eng 330 w/ Lenny G) thus far, the words of Coleridge, Poe, Shelley, and Blake have been hammered relentlessly into my brain a LOT lately. The Romantic poets generally refer to my character as "Life-in-Death" or "Waking Death." As you can imagine, this has forced me to think about my opinions of death.
All through middle school and most of high school, I was a big fan of the "Live Fast, Die Young, Leave A Magnificent Corpse" philosophy. This started right around the time my father showed me "plantation pictures" of my relatives and they ALL looked like either Don King or O.J. Simpson. BLeH! My father's side of the family does not age well. *sad shake of head* My mother's side, on the other hand, doesn't seem to age at all... it's rather uncanny. I suspect some vampirism. Hmmm.... *inquisitive pose* Hell, I've always attributed my hazel eyes to a rare werewolf curse within our family; it skips every two generations and it doesn't help that my great-grandma, the first known case, never spoke about her parents... to ANYONE.
After reading various takes on Milton's Paradise Lost, the idea of an afterlife sounds like waaaaay too much work for me right now. I've decided that I really don't want one. Eternity and immortality are ideas that used to appeal to me and my childish sensibilities, but nowadays, there are times when I'm soooo stressed that I crave absolute oblivion, for everything just to stop so I can finally get some sleep. But not for a long time. I'm no longer afraid of getting old and senile, in fact, I welcome it, and until that fateful day, I'll just have to live with the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Luckily for me, I've realized that I don't need to take a plunge... I just need to take a nap. ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz...
Now enrolled in my third romanticism course (Eng 330 w/ Lenny G) thus far, the words of Coleridge, Poe, Shelley, and Blake have been hammered relentlessly into my brain a LOT lately. The Romantic poets generally refer to my character as "Life-in-Death" or "Waking Death." As you can imagine, this has forced me to think about my opinions of death.
All through middle school and most of high school, I was a big fan of the "Live Fast, Die Young, Leave A Magnificent Corpse" philosophy. This started right around the time my father showed me "plantation pictures" of my relatives and they ALL looked like either Don King or O.J. Simpson. BLeH! My father's side of the family does not age well. *sad shake of head* My mother's side, on the other hand, doesn't seem to age at all... it's rather uncanny. I suspect some vampirism. Hmmm.... *inquisitive pose* Hell, I've always attributed my hazel eyes to a rare werewolf curse within our family; it skips every two generations and it doesn't help that my great-grandma, the first known case, never spoke about her parents... to ANYONE.
After reading various takes on Milton's Paradise Lost, the idea of an afterlife sounds like waaaaay too much work for me right now. I've decided that I really don't want one. Eternity and immortality are ideas that used to appeal to me and my childish sensibilities, but nowadays, there are times when I'm soooo stressed that I crave absolute oblivion, for everything just to stop so I can finally get some sleep. But not for a long time. I'm no longer afraid of getting old and senile, in fact, I welcome it, and until that fateful day, I'll just have to live with the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Luckily for me, I've realized that I don't need to take a plunge... I just need to take a nap. ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz...