That Unbearable Lightness of Being
Today I have had glorious freetime. No pressing homework, no papers looming, no Italian trying to ruin my mood. It's been amazing. I have never been more content sitting on my ass and doing nothing. Today made me thankful for everything in my life.
I hate this time of the year and it makes me feel like a mutant because everyone always talks about how Fall is their favorite season and the leaves drop and all that shit, but it always makes me feel depressed. Autumn is a poor man's Winter. I like my weather to have personality and get up in my face. I want my rain to pour, my summer sun to sizzle, and my chilly days to penetrate my marrow. Autumn is just such a half-hearted season. It's cold it's hot it's cool it's raining a little... What the fuck am I supposed to wear Autumn?! I don't do layers.
But now the rain has stopped and I can't find fault with the beautiful clime today.
For the first time I am feeling uncertain about my major because I'm not sure about taking more Italian. I'm dying in 2001 and I just want to stop. So I'm going to have a talky-poo with my Comp Lit advisor (who happens to be my poetry teacher) and see what I can do. MacLean opened my eyes to interdisciplinary study and now I'm thinking about maybe some hybrid Com Lit/English/Classics action for a diploma. I've also decided to get a Certificate in New Media so that I can have some kind of documentation that says I know my shit about the new types of media tools and advancements in the field.
This weekend Amanda and I are going to a cabin that her parents own. I imagine it will be very sobering to spend some time with nature (though I hate it) and to have some peaceful quiet time with the one I love. I am very excited.
My poetry teacher engaged us in a really interesting conversation about death today and why it is frightening... and how you must do it alone. I agree with a lot of what she said about death, but sometimes I want to subscribe to the Ben Gibbard version.
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark
And I'm feeling that little itch again. Those moments when I start thinking about all the things I haven't written about yet but will. It's coming so slowly but that itch to write is beginning to coarse through my veins again. It's been so long. I've missed it so. Which is why I guess I'm starting here.
I hate this time of the year and it makes me feel like a mutant because everyone always talks about how Fall is their favorite season and the leaves drop and all that shit, but it always makes me feel depressed. Autumn is a poor man's Winter. I like my weather to have personality and get up in my face. I want my rain to pour, my summer sun to sizzle, and my chilly days to penetrate my marrow. Autumn is just such a half-hearted season. It's cold it's hot it's cool it's raining a little... What the fuck am I supposed to wear Autumn?! I don't do layers.
But now the rain has stopped and I can't find fault with the beautiful clime today.
For the first time I am feeling uncertain about my major because I'm not sure about taking more Italian. I'm dying in 2001 and I just want to stop. So I'm going to have a talky-poo with my Comp Lit advisor (who happens to be my poetry teacher) and see what I can do. MacLean opened my eyes to interdisciplinary study and now I'm thinking about maybe some hybrid Com Lit/English/Classics action for a diploma. I've also decided to get a Certificate in New Media so that I can have some kind of documentation that says I know my shit about the new types of media tools and advancements in the field.
This weekend Amanda and I are going to a cabin that her parents own. I imagine it will be very sobering to spend some time with nature (though I hate it) and to have some peaceful quiet time with the one I love. I am very excited.
My poetry teacher engaged us in a really interesting conversation about death today and why it is frightening... and how you must do it alone. I agree with a lot of what she said about death, but sometimes I want to subscribe to the Ben Gibbard version.
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark
And I'm feeling that little itch again. Those moments when I start thinking about all the things I haven't written about yet but will. It's coming so slowly but that itch to write is beginning to coarse through my veins again. It's been so long. I've missed it so. Which is why I guess I'm starting here.