self explanation
This morning I finally finished “The Time Traveler’s Wife”. Actually, the plot of the story subsided yesterday at about 1am; I’ve left the conclusive details for the morning. (…for about a month now I’ve picked up this destructive habit of reading in the mornings which makes me late to work… I also stopped running because of that…). Somewhere in the middle of this or previous books, I gave myself a word to jot down the impressions of the books I read. This idea gives my fruitless binge readings a reason. Otherwise I am left stranded, franticly searching for a good explanation when asked about what I have been up to last month, week, night. This innocent question always makes me feel guilty for some reason. I immediately begin to feel like a school girl interrogated by her teacher
- Young lady, where is your homework! You’re a lazy, spoiled rotten little girl! You should be ashamed of yourself!
I am only few inches tall and shyly begin to rattle back bits of pathetic explanation.
- I was reading… a book, different books… it’s a science fiction and love story at once… its… its better then watching tv isn’t? Please I am not lazy; I won’t do it again… I am sorry…
Teacher continues to look at me disapprovingly. She, who is also me but about 10 feet tall, is apparently disgusted with my laziness, my sluggish attitude. I am afraid of her disapproval and bow my head down. She persists to stand monstrously big over me. We freeze but my mind keeps racing. I decide then to put my thoughts down in writing, to defend my reading to her. The thought of writing it down, makes me feel better somehow. It gives me hope for approval. Approval from my big grown up self to the little, weak, undisciplined self.
- Young lady, where is your homework! You’re a lazy, spoiled rotten little girl! You should be ashamed of yourself!
I am only few inches tall and shyly begin to rattle back bits of pathetic explanation.
- I was reading… a book, different books… it’s a science fiction and love story at once… its… its better then watching tv isn’t? Please I am not lazy; I won’t do it again… I am sorry…
Teacher continues to look at me disapprovingly. She, who is also me but about 10 feet tall, is apparently disgusted with my laziness, my sluggish attitude. I am afraid of her disapproval and bow my head down. She persists to stand monstrously big over me. We freeze but my mind keeps racing. I decide then to put my thoughts down in writing, to defend my reading to her. The thought of writing it down, makes me feel better somehow. It gives me hope for approval. Approval from my big grown up self to the little, weak, undisciplined self.