Sooo its week 8
Yep you heard me correct. My 8th week of lectures and seminars at Uni (basically not including freshers week) and it's still running smoothly, I got 60/100 in that first assignment which I am pretty happy with myself really.
Anyway I'm not going to sit here and be like "this is what I have done until now" 1. because it's probably a bit boring for you isn't it? and 2. I can't remember.
So I'm just going to go on with today and yesterday.
Yesterday
Fairly usual day, 10 o'clock english lecture as usual with my flask of tea and still half asleep.
Only to discover that our lecturer was a madman, an actual psychopath. (well maybe not that bad I just thought it would sound better if I exaggerated a little.
He had these crazy hand gestures which kind of looked like he was groping an imaginary woman followed by desperate jazz hands of some sort. He then proceeded to repeat things at us alot, but in a shout. e.g "so they are attempting to portray common life." *dramatic pause as he stares and then points at us all* "COMMON LIFE!" *continues as though nothing as happened.*
I worry about whether they just let people of the streets come in and read lecture notes to us.
the rest of the day followed without much consequence really.
Today
so 9 o'clock lecture today. BAIN. OF. MY. LIFE. I just fall asleep and I was so tired all the words kept blurring and I started to inwardly panic that I was losing my sight and blah. So yea- not a good start really.
Then I went home and had a power nap for an hour and a half and just felt groggy afterwards but oh well, watched some ouran, read some of "Life is a dream" by Calderon which I have to read by tomorrow *facepalm* and then went back into uni for my creative writing lecture.
Sat next to maisie who is really fun to sit in a lecture with because we sit at the back and just talk and laugh at our adorable lecturer (thank god alexa linked me to the facebook appreciation society, he is amazing) and I realised last week he is only 27 so thats what? 9 years. NOTHING. so yea, going to marry him obviously XD
ANYWAY, me and maisie were like "nrrrgh so dead" from being woken up so early for our lecture that morning so were practically falling asleep on the desks. So when it came to writing poetry in the lecture we were like "whaaaa-?" We had to write an ode (love poem) to something and then a malediction (hate poem) to the same thing using "I love your___ like____" and "I hate your___like___" . I chose a penguin (obviously.)
I love your large flippers
like boat paddles, churning water.
I love your small jet black eyes,
like shiny buttons on a new coat.
I love your bright yellow beak
like so many crayon-drawn suns.
I love your black and white coat
like debonair evening wear.
I love your sleek feathers
like soft velvet.
and
I hate your large flippers
like heavy slapping fishes.
I hate your small beady black eyes
like the severed heads of beetles.
I hate your yellow beak
like lurid light that hurts your eyes.
I hate your black and white coat,
like a thick black smudge on paper.
I hate your sleak feathers
like cold, wet hair in the rain.
so yea fun times forcing similes in creative writing! although I would do anything for my future husband of course HAHAHA ( oh god if he found this somehow I think I would die.) Yea but hes like a proper published poet and everything.
ANYWAY then on the way home I was suddenly struck by inspiration (I get this at weird times usually, like in the shower or just before I fall asleep, or at the shops when I have no paper. I mean I try to carry my notebook with me everywhere but I have like no memory and I can't take it into the shower obviously.) soooo moving on. I was in my own world (as usual) and I was struck with a poem like instantly whilst thinking about something, im not going to tell you what, I may die. Anyway here is the poem I wrote whilst walking home. yes walking. IN THE DARK. AND THE COLD.:
That night
that wine
that room
that line.
that hand
on mine.
that paper
that time.
those eyes
that burn.
that sigh
that turn.
your touch
so sheer.
these moments
lead here.
yea what can I say I love simple poems. let me know what you think. also I scanned the crappily written copy for evidence of the fact that I was in motion whilst writing it:
yea my handwriting is bad but thats just AWEFUL.
moving on. MOLLYMOLLYMOLLY I WAS BORED AND DID THIS ON PHOTOSHOP * hopes she actually reads this post*:
*wants piehat*
*Goes and gets life*.
love you all
npgx
Anyway I'm not going to sit here and be like "this is what I have done until now" 1. because it's probably a bit boring for you isn't it? and 2. I can't remember.
So I'm just going to go on with today and yesterday.
Yesterday
Fairly usual day, 10 o'clock english lecture as usual with my flask of tea and still half asleep.
Only to discover that our lecturer was a madman, an actual psychopath. (well maybe not that bad I just thought it would sound better if I exaggerated a little.
He had these crazy hand gestures which kind of looked like he was groping an imaginary woman followed by desperate jazz hands of some sort. He then proceeded to repeat things at us alot, but in a shout. e.g "so they are attempting to portray common life." *dramatic pause as he stares and then points at us all* "COMMON LIFE!" *continues as though nothing as happened.*
I worry about whether they just let people of the streets come in and read lecture notes to us.
the rest of the day followed without much consequence really.
Today
so 9 o'clock lecture today. BAIN. OF. MY. LIFE. I just fall asleep and I was so tired all the words kept blurring and I started to inwardly panic that I was losing my sight and blah. So yea- not a good start really.
Then I went home and had a power nap for an hour and a half and just felt groggy afterwards but oh well, watched some ouran, read some of "Life is a dream" by Calderon which I have to read by tomorrow *facepalm* and then went back into uni for my creative writing lecture.
Sat next to maisie who is really fun to sit in a lecture with because we sit at the back and just talk and laugh at our adorable lecturer (thank god alexa linked me to the facebook appreciation society, he is amazing) and I realised last week he is only 27 so thats what? 9 years. NOTHING. so yea, going to marry him obviously XD
ANYWAY, me and maisie were like "nrrrgh so dead" from being woken up so early for our lecture that morning so were practically falling asleep on the desks. So when it came to writing poetry in the lecture we were like "whaaaa-?" We had to write an ode (love poem) to something and then a malediction (hate poem) to the same thing using "I love your___ like____" and "I hate your___like___" . I chose a penguin (obviously.)
I love your large flippers
like boat paddles, churning water.
I love your small jet black eyes,
like shiny buttons on a new coat.
I love your bright yellow beak
like so many crayon-drawn suns.
I love your black and white coat
like debonair evening wear.
I love your sleek feathers
like soft velvet.
and
I hate your large flippers
like heavy slapping fishes.
I hate your small beady black eyes
like the severed heads of beetles.
I hate your yellow beak
like lurid light that hurts your eyes.
I hate your black and white coat,
like a thick black smudge on paper.
I hate your sleak feathers
like cold, wet hair in the rain.
so yea fun times forcing similes in creative writing! although I would do anything for my future husband of course HAHAHA ( oh god if he found this somehow I think I would die.) Yea but hes like a proper published poet and everything.
ANYWAY then on the way home I was suddenly struck by inspiration (I get this at weird times usually, like in the shower or just before I fall asleep, or at the shops when I have no paper. I mean I try to carry my notebook with me everywhere but I have like no memory and I can't take it into the shower obviously.) soooo moving on. I was in my own world (as usual) and I was struck with a poem like instantly whilst thinking about something, im not going to tell you what, I may die. Anyway here is the poem I wrote whilst walking home. yes walking. IN THE DARK. AND THE COLD.:
That night
that wine
that room
that line.
that hand
on mine.
that paper
that time.
those eyes
that burn.
that sigh
that turn.
your touch
so sheer.
these moments
lead here.
yea what can I say I love simple poems. let me know what you think. also I scanned the crappily written copy for evidence of the fact that I was in motion whilst writing it:
yea my handwriting is bad but thats just AWEFUL.
moving on. MOLLYMOLLYMOLLY I WAS BORED AND DID THIS ON PHOTOSHOP * hopes she actually reads this post*:
*wants piehat*
*Goes and gets life*.
love you all
npgx