for the sake of a break
It's not that I am tired. It's that my left thigh is cramping; it cramps when I've been awake too long. And I notice, as I write this, and even as I think, I've started to grasp onto the style of my reading, a very straightforward narrative delivered in second person. This is disturbing, since I'm reading Lolita. For those of you that don't know (although many of you have shelved it I'm sure) it is a novel from the perspective of a pedophile bent on his stepdaughter Lolita. While its absolutely terrible, in order to write a paper on it due tomorrow, I have to hellishly page through and I don't have time to relax and be appalled. Such a frantic pace desensitizes, I think. Yes. It's twelve thirty, and I'm halfway through a novel thats around 310 pages.
Enough. I'm writing more to take a break than write my paper for you all before I'm done. I think it should be a good paper, since it seems my poetry class has made me more sensitive to theme than I was previously. The theme I really want to focus on, shared by Lolita and my other book, Reading Lolita in Tehran, is solipsation or the application of mental perspective onto reality. More disturbing to me is Humbert's (the narrator's) use of Lolita mentally rather than physically. Partly this is a nuance of the story which is hotly debated. But the women in Iran that read Lolita felt more strongly the impact of the government applying its mental conceptions onto society. They felt that the application of mental conception onto individuals was a more profound attempt at grasping for the minds of the people.
I didn't really mean to go on about it.
Last weekend I found myself in San Antonio. I also saw Kody and Kate next to the Alamo. The chances had to be incredible. I went to the Riverwalk and to the museum of art. My cousin was married; I was a groomsman. And I sang for the wedding, but in truth it went poorly. In truth having so much free time lately has tossed so much doubt and hope in my mind that I'm lost in something labrythine, but I know not whether it is sinister or some divine maze I'm running. Running towards a goal, to win a prize, as Paul would say. The persistance of doubt, of sin, and then of God in my life...I'm going to be torn into three pieces it feels right now.
And whether these ravings, caffeine induced, sleep deprived ravings, are reflections of a truer me or confounding bluster, I don't have insight into. I only pray that one of you finds this amusing and I'll be satisfied. It is a little amusing.
Adieu, for now. I love you all.
Enough. I'm writing more to take a break than write my paper for you all before I'm done. I think it should be a good paper, since it seems my poetry class has made me more sensitive to theme than I was previously. The theme I really want to focus on, shared by Lolita and my other book, Reading Lolita in Tehran, is solipsation or the application of mental perspective onto reality. More disturbing to me is Humbert's (the narrator's) use of Lolita mentally rather than physically. Partly this is a nuance of the story which is hotly debated. But the women in Iran that read Lolita felt more strongly the impact of the government applying its mental conceptions onto society. They felt that the application of mental conception onto individuals was a more profound attempt at grasping for the minds of the people.
I didn't really mean to go on about it.
Last weekend I found myself in San Antonio. I also saw Kody and Kate next to the Alamo. The chances had to be incredible. I went to the Riverwalk and to the museum of art. My cousin was married; I was a groomsman. And I sang for the wedding, but in truth it went poorly. In truth having so much free time lately has tossed so much doubt and hope in my mind that I'm lost in something labrythine, but I know not whether it is sinister or some divine maze I'm running. Running towards a goal, to win a prize, as Paul would say. The persistance of doubt, of sin, and then of God in my life...I'm going to be torn into three pieces it feels right now.
And whether these ravings, caffeine induced, sleep deprived ravings, are reflections of a truer me or confounding bluster, I don't have insight into. I only pray that one of you finds this amusing and I'll be satisfied. It is a little amusing.
Adieu, for now. I love you all.