doodoo
my time as a college student is coming to an end. i am done with classes--i have a single paper and a single exam.
today we woke up and went out to our friend willie's farm and picked strawberries. i wore a giant hat. the berries were everywhere and in the funnest shapes. we have 8 quarts on our kitchen counter.
last night i babysat two magnificent, budding little dorks. one of them had a panic attack (hes just 8!) and i couldnt help but thank God that He had enough foresight to track me down to babysit those guys. we sat on the edge of his bed and i taught him breathing exercises and calmed him down until he fell asleep. of all the people who were contacted about caring for them, its a little bit hilarious that i was the one who was there.
until yesterday, i was the poorest i have ever been in my life. the amount in my bank account dropped to the single digits. i had no cash.
the director of the creative writing department told me after our honors ceremony on wednesday that he hopes that i go on to get my MFA in poetry writing. he told me it would be a waste not to. he told my friend john that i am good, and one day i could be really good or even great. is that what we strive for? and by what stick is greatness measured? i suppose i will start sending out poems.
this year, i recovered just in time to realize how many poems i hadnt gotten a chance to write, and my last couple of months are just a blur of thinking about words strung together into brief lines. but i am still unsatisfied. just because its all in a book to be archived forever doesnt free me of anything. someone said something once about writing because you have to, and i guess that is true. the words claw at your brain until you make them right.
today we woke up and went out to our friend willie's farm and picked strawberries. i wore a giant hat. the berries were everywhere and in the funnest shapes. we have 8 quarts on our kitchen counter.
last night i babysat two magnificent, budding little dorks. one of them had a panic attack (hes just 8!) and i couldnt help but thank God that He had enough foresight to track me down to babysit those guys. we sat on the edge of his bed and i taught him breathing exercises and calmed him down until he fell asleep. of all the people who were contacted about caring for them, its a little bit hilarious that i was the one who was there.
until yesterday, i was the poorest i have ever been in my life. the amount in my bank account dropped to the single digits. i had no cash.
the director of the creative writing department told me after our honors ceremony on wednesday that he hopes that i go on to get my MFA in poetry writing. he told me it would be a waste not to. he told my friend john that i am good, and one day i could be really good or even great. is that what we strive for? and by what stick is greatness measured? i suppose i will start sending out poems.
this year, i recovered just in time to realize how many poems i hadnt gotten a chance to write, and my last couple of months are just a blur of thinking about words strung together into brief lines. but i am still unsatisfied. just because its all in a book to be archived forever doesnt free me of anything. someone said something once about writing because you have to, and i guess that is true. the words claw at your brain until you make them right.