my nose is in a marathon today
seriously, it's running off my face.
Some days it's nice just to sit back and enjoy a full 90 minute class on a computer. Other days, i just wanna pick up th ebig bulky monitor and through it out the window, after attacking the "vital organs" of the hard-drive with ez cheez, silly string, and a plethora of other materials that would destroy the entire machine. Like today. My gmail won't work. I want gmail. Bleh.
I'm listening to mogwai - i've been listening to a lot of mogwai this week... it's calming... i dunno. I don't know what is wrong with me - i just keep... freaking out. I'm stressed out over all of this little shit that could be easily remedied by simply... cutting it out. I thought i had taken care of what i needed to, but i'm not so sure now. I dunno. It's all just jumbling up in my brain. To the point that i get exhasperated and cant do anything about it because i'm to busy thinking about what all i have t do. My dad is pushing me to get a job, but i need to focus on school. Both you and my mom think i should quit speech and debate, and though i don't want to, it may be an option that i need. I dunno. I have to get my algebra grade up - that's the only thing i should really be worrying about this week, but instead i have a 10 minute speech to finish writing tonight. Instead of doing it, though, i have a panic attack because i'm terrible when i have to stand up in front of a crowd. I thought that speech and debate could be good for me, but i'm wondering if i need to back off... i don't know. Should i wait a year before going back to school, or will i lose everything that i have attained as a student and end up never going back? You say you won't let me do that... but really, if i get caught up in a job, and stuff, how am i supposed to handle going back to school after such a long period of time? Should i maybe just wait until winter semester? Or spring? Or should i just swallow all of my doubts and go in the fall? I look around, and there are so many people who are more intelligent, better writers, more adept thinkers - and i have always said that this doesnt get to me - and in all honesty, it never has, because i've always been confident in myself. But now, i see these people and all i can think is, "god, these guys are good at life. they have it made." and i look at myself, and i can't do anything. I'm just... sitting around. And when i think about getting up and doing something, i panic. what the fuck is wrong with me, honestly?
here's part of my speech:
Place your hand over your heart, and feel your own life beneath your fingertips. Place your head on your lover's heart and feel their life in your ears. It sings. It pulses. Love and our hearts have always
been metaphorically connected... this really has no explanation. But poetry... rhythm -- There's a connection. The majority of love poems have been written in Iambic feet, the most natural rhythm any person has ever felt. The simplest drum-beat that was ever tapped: A heart Beat. ba-dump ba-dump, ba-dump. Get lost in this, when you notice it.There are few times that you will. Perhaps in the future... but this love... Iambic love, natural love... does not exist often in youth.
At one time, courtship was... shy. People were timid - respectful. And Physical contact was sacred. Instead of a makeout session, two people danced. It wasn't any of this... dirty dancing - John Travolta was,
most definitely, not involved. Instead, a woman was led across a reflective floor in twirling, revolving, romantic footsteps. The woman, supported - held - by the man, was always (unless, of course the man was absolutely appaling) light on her feet, with her head in the clouds - the typical cinderella feeling. each of us have felt these moments, when someone we begin to care about puts a light hand on our waist, we catch a quick glimpse of their eye reflected in the light, and our dresses glide across the floor like a perfectly handled broom, while our heads begin to feel a potent detergent deteriorate our brain cells.
But now, Instead of a beginning, the dance is death. Instead of a curfew that leads to a lost shoe and a search for an eternal partner, the dancers are being slaughtered.
I'd like to allude to an concept created by english major Kyle Howard, of the Phoenix-based band, The Stiletto Formal. The band derived their name from a story he wrote, depicting one of these dances - one of these elaborate, truly romantic beginnings. Each girl has dreamt it, each one of us has held thougths of our own cinderella existance. In this evening, however, the sun set on romance. A murderer silently waltzes alone, between each couple, slaughtering every one of them with a stiletto knife, putting to death with hardly a breath any concept of chivalry, love, or courtship.
The Murder at the Stiletto Formal symbolizes the nature by which our young society has set their moral basis. Instead of "While i stand on the street where you live," enjoying the scent of lilacs and the very thought of being near someone who is loved, we are encouraged to jump into physical relationships that many adults can't even handle. Young (as well as "mature" ) adults behave more as apes attempting to preserve a species than being virtuous, moral characters. Instead of cherishing the moments we spend, listening to that heartbeat or waltzing to a beautiful song, we slit eachothers' throats for the sake of lust.
Some days it's nice just to sit back and enjoy a full 90 minute class on a computer. Other days, i just wanna pick up th ebig bulky monitor and through it out the window, after attacking the "vital organs" of the hard-drive with ez cheez, silly string, and a plethora of other materials that would destroy the entire machine. Like today. My gmail won't work. I want gmail. Bleh.
I'm listening to mogwai - i've been listening to a lot of mogwai this week... it's calming... i dunno. I don't know what is wrong with me - i just keep... freaking out. I'm stressed out over all of this little shit that could be easily remedied by simply... cutting it out. I thought i had taken care of what i needed to, but i'm not so sure now. I dunno. It's all just jumbling up in my brain. To the point that i get exhasperated and cant do anything about it because i'm to busy thinking about what all i have t do. My dad is pushing me to get a job, but i need to focus on school. Both you and my mom think i should quit speech and debate, and though i don't want to, it may be an option that i need. I dunno. I have to get my algebra grade up - that's the only thing i should really be worrying about this week, but instead i have a 10 minute speech to finish writing tonight. Instead of doing it, though, i have a panic attack because i'm terrible when i have to stand up in front of a crowd. I thought that speech and debate could be good for me, but i'm wondering if i need to back off... i don't know. Should i wait a year before going back to school, or will i lose everything that i have attained as a student and end up never going back? You say you won't let me do that... but really, if i get caught up in a job, and stuff, how am i supposed to handle going back to school after such a long period of time? Should i maybe just wait until winter semester? Or spring? Or should i just swallow all of my doubts and go in the fall? I look around, and there are so many people who are more intelligent, better writers, more adept thinkers - and i have always said that this doesnt get to me - and in all honesty, it never has, because i've always been confident in myself. But now, i see these people and all i can think is, "god, these guys are good at life. they have it made." and i look at myself, and i can't do anything. I'm just... sitting around. And when i think about getting up and doing something, i panic. what the fuck is wrong with me, honestly?
here's part of my speech:
Place your hand over your heart, and feel your own life beneath your fingertips. Place your head on your lover's heart and feel their life in your ears. It sings. It pulses. Love and our hearts have always
been metaphorically connected... this really has no explanation. But poetry... rhythm -- There's a connection. The majority of love poems have been written in Iambic feet, the most natural rhythm any person has ever felt. The simplest drum-beat that was ever tapped: A heart Beat. ba-dump ba-dump, ba-dump. Get lost in this, when you notice it.There are few times that you will. Perhaps in the future... but this love... Iambic love, natural love... does not exist often in youth.
At one time, courtship was... shy. People were timid - respectful. And Physical contact was sacred. Instead of a makeout session, two people danced. It wasn't any of this... dirty dancing - John Travolta was,
most definitely, not involved. Instead, a woman was led across a reflective floor in twirling, revolving, romantic footsteps. The woman, supported - held - by the man, was always (unless, of course the man was absolutely appaling) light on her feet, with her head in the clouds - the typical cinderella feeling. each of us have felt these moments, when someone we begin to care about puts a light hand on our waist, we catch a quick glimpse of their eye reflected in the light, and our dresses glide across the floor like a perfectly handled broom, while our heads begin to feel a potent detergent deteriorate our brain cells.
But now, Instead of a beginning, the dance is death. Instead of a curfew that leads to a lost shoe and a search for an eternal partner, the dancers are being slaughtered.
I'd like to allude to an concept created by english major Kyle Howard, of the Phoenix-based band, The Stiletto Formal. The band derived their name from a story he wrote, depicting one of these dances - one of these elaborate, truly romantic beginnings. Each girl has dreamt it, each one of us has held thougths of our own cinderella existance. In this evening, however, the sun set on romance. A murderer silently waltzes alone, between each couple, slaughtering every one of them with a stiletto knife, putting to death with hardly a breath any concept of chivalry, love, or courtship.
The Murder at the Stiletto Formal symbolizes the nature by which our young society has set their moral basis. Instead of "While i stand on the street where you live," enjoying the scent of lilacs and the very thought of being near someone who is loved, we are encouraged to jump into physical relationships that many adults can't even handle. Young (as well as "mature" ) adults behave more as apes attempting to preserve a species than being virtuous, moral characters. Instead of cherishing the moments we spend, listening to that heartbeat or waltzing to a beautiful song, we slit eachothers' throats for the sake of lust.