you may be right
This morning after breakfast I spent 30 minutes walking around Edinburgh in crazy winds feeling completely excited about it all. I saw a shop where they'll put anything you want on a t-shirt, but I couldn't think of anything at the moment. too bad, cause we're driving to St. Andrews tomorrow and won't be back.
Anyway, I'm completely in love with the city of Edinburgh. I had to be back to the room by 10:30 because I needed to write one of those nagging college essays. So...I spent 30 minutes making a college apps playlist on itunes. Then I actually wrote my college essay for stanford. Where I probably won't get in, but it doesn't really matter because I think I'm going to use the essay for just about every other application I can. I'm putting it up here because I actually kind of like it. Feel free to look at it or not, as with everything, eh? after all, other people's essays aren't always the most exciting :D But I'll give a you a clue: it's got a psychic, a poem, drugs, and tarot cards in it ^_^ sort of.
11b: As you reflect on your life thus far, what has someone said, written or expressed in some fashion that is especially meaningful to you? Why?
Poems keep me alive; they are jewels of life condensed into an art form. They show me I’m not alone, or that everyone ends up alone, or that loneliness doesn’t matter as much as the one sweet, dusty sensation of biting into a fresh peach and noticing the sky. Mary Oliver’s poem, “The Journey” illuminates how, ultimately, we must depend on ourselves: “…there was a new voice” she writes, “which you slowly recognized as your own,/ that kept you company/ as you strode deeper and deeper/ into the world, / determined to do/ the only thing you could do -/ determined to save/ the only life you could save.”
About a year ago, I went to the psychic fair in the basement of Pachamama’s, the metaphysical store in Concord, New Hampshire. The psychic who read my Tarot cards told me I should try automatic writing. A couple of times a week, she said, I should clear my mind and just write whatever came out on the paper without looking back. Then I should fold it up without looking at it, date it, and read it exactly one week later. She told me that this would give me great advice, help my writing, and also refine my psychic skill so that I could read Tarot cards myself.
I have no desire to tell the future or read Tarot cards, but I decided to try it anyway, and with the exception of a few blank periods, I’ve been using automatic writing steadily since then. The pieces that have come out of this practice have truly transformed since I began. The first time I tried it, I wrote a collection of random words: “Blue brown trees river need nature sun help” etc. For the next few weeks after that, I went the opposite direction and became stuck in meter and rhyme, with cryptic phrases such as “slowly we will climb the ladder,/ rising stiffly from the door/ where the insects meet the water,/ where the water meets the shore.” At times I read the pieces a week later and found I had described familiar scenes in a strange, dreamlike way. Snapshots of memories found their way into the writing as I dealt with illness and death in my family, friends at home destroyed by methamphetamines, or my first crush on another girl.
Through my automatic writing, I have given myself the advice I truly need. As soon as I finish writing and fold over the page in my notebook, I no longer have any idea what I just wrote. One week later when I open it again, the words say exactly what I need to keep going, as if my subconscious knows what I’ll be experiencing a week in advance. From a week in the past, I tell myself that I am loved, that I care about me, or that the labels and walls around me don’t matter. “I am a sky to myself, full of unknown vowels,” I read, or “smile like tomorrow is beautiful, and today is a small dream, and yesterday is a question you look to for guidance…I’ll find you a garden, a reason, a language. I’ll find you a protection…I am happy like this.”
I have found a way to apply Mary Oliver’s words in “The Journey” directly to my own life. Like her character, I journey through life accompanied by my own voice, determined to take good care of myself. I know that only by giving myself confidence and love can I extend that happiness to others. As I “[stride] deeper and deeper into the world” and look forward to the adventures that await me, I know I’m the only person I can always depend on, and I smile, because I also know I’m up to the task.
you may be right, I may be crazy! But it just might be a lunatic you're looking for. It's too late to fight; it's too late to change me. you may be wrong for all I know, but you may be right :D
Peace of mind? It's a piece of cake. Thought control? You get on board anytime you like!
Anyway, I'm completely in love with the city of Edinburgh. I had to be back to the room by 10:30 because I needed to write one of those nagging college essays. So...I spent 30 minutes making a college apps playlist on itunes. Then I actually wrote my college essay for stanford. Where I probably won't get in, but it doesn't really matter because I think I'm going to use the essay for just about every other application I can. I'm putting it up here because I actually kind of like it. Feel free to look at it or not, as with everything, eh? after all, other people's essays aren't always the most exciting :D But I'll give a you a clue: it's got a psychic, a poem, drugs, and tarot cards in it ^_^ sort of.
11b: As you reflect on your life thus far, what has someone said, written or expressed in some fashion that is especially meaningful to you? Why?
Poems keep me alive; they are jewels of life condensed into an art form. They show me I’m not alone, or that everyone ends up alone, or that loneliness doesn’t matter as much as the one sweet, dusty sensation of biting into a fresh peach and noticing the sky. Mary Oliver’s poem, “The Journey” illuminates how, ultimately, we must depend on ourselves: “…there was a new voice” she writes, “which you slowly recognized as your own,/ that kept you company/ as you strode deeper and deeper/ into the world, / determined to do/ the only thing you could do -/ determined to save/ the only life you could save.”
About a year ago, I went to the psychic fair in the basement of Pachamama’s, the metaphysical store in Concord, New Hampshire. The psychic who read my Tarot cards told me I should try automatic writing. A couple of times a week, she said, I should clear my mind and just write whatever came out on the paper without looking back. Then I should fold it up without looking at it, date it, and read it exactly one week later. She told me that this would give me great advice, help my writing, and also refine my psychic skill so that I could read Tarot cards myself.
I have no desire to tell the future or read Tarot cards, but I decided to try it anyway, and with the exception of a few blank periods, I’ve been using automatic writing steadily since then. The pieces that have come out of this practice have truly transformed since I began. The first time I tried it, I wrote a collection of random words: “Blue brown trees river need nature sun help” etc. For the next few weeks after that, I went the opposite direction and became stuck in meter and rhyme, with cryptic phrases such as “slowly we will climb the ladder,/ rising stiffly from the door/ where the insects meet the water,/ where the water meets the shore.” At times I read the pieces a week later and found I had described familiar scenes in a strange, dreamlike way. Snapshots of memories found their way into the writing as I dealt with illness and death in my family, friends at home destroyed by methamphetamines, or my first crush on another girl.
Through my automatic writing, I have given myself the advice I truly need. As soon as I finish writing and fold over the page in my notebook, I no longer have any idea what I just wrote. One week later when I open it again, the words say exactly what I need to keep going, as if my subconscious knows what I’ll be experiencing a week in advance. From a week in the past, I tell myself that I am loved, that I care about me, or that the labels and walls around me don’t matter. “I am a sky to myself, full of unknown vowels,” I read, or “smile like tomorrow is beautiful, and today is a small dream, and yesterday is a question you look to for guidance…I’ll find you a garden, a reason, a language. I’ll find you a protection…I am happy like this.”
I have found a way to apply Mary Oliver’s words in “The Journey” directly to my own life. Like her character, I journey through life accompanied by my own voice, determined to take good care of myself. I know that only by giving myself confidence and love can I extend that happiness to others. As I “[stride] deeper and deeper into the world” and look forward to the adventures that await me, I know I’m the only person I can always depend on, and I smile, because I also know I’m up to the task.
you may be right, I may be crazy! But it just might be a lunatic you're looking for. It's too late to fight; it's too late to change me. you may be wrong for all I know, but you may be right :D
Peace of mind? It's a piece of cake. Thought control? You get on board anytime you like!